


I've Only Ever Wanted Fire

by doingthemost, RhetoricalQuestions



Series: a spell that can't be broken [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demons, Developing Relationship, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Digital Art, Digital Painting, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fanart, Feels, First Meetings, Firsts, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Ghosts, Girls in Love, Happily Ever After, Let Alexis Rose Eat, Magic-Users, Magical Realism, Meet-Cute, Roommates, Supernatural Elements, Tarot, Top Twyla Sands, Toronto, Twyla Sands' Freckles, allusions/fade on sex in the 1/3rd of chapter 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doingthemost/pseuds/doingthemost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricalQuestions/pseuds/RhetoricalQuestions
Summary: Twyla has written Alexis' name under multiple entries in her dream journal, each corresponding to a vision that she now realizes was fortelling their presence together. She's never had so many visions pointing to the same person. All she can surmise this morning, over muffins and coffee and Alexis next to her, doodling on the newspaper and casting sideways smiles in Twyla's direction, is that somehow, the fates intend for Alexis Rose to be a big part of her life.When Alexis Rose, secret witch, is looking for a new apartment, she meets Twyla Sands: medium, exorcist, and house flipper. Sparks fly in more ways than one.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Mutt Schitt (Mentioned), Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Patrick Brewer/David Rose (mentioned), Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose (mentioned), Twyla Sands/Mutt Schitt (Mentioned)
Series: a spell that can't be broken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071500
Comments: 30
Kudos: 46
Collections: Schitt's Creek Trick Or Treat





	1. Twyla

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [sonlali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali) in the [SCTrickOrTreat](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCTrickOrTreat) collection. 



> So many 'thank yous' are owed to...
> 
> wanderinghope and singsongsung for: talking me through the initial outlines, helping me with all of the local details, providing encouragement, and finding/fixing my mistakes.  
> sparklesmagiclightlove and nontoxic for: helping me with magical details and ideas for this world.  
> sonlali for: a wonderful prompt that immediately captured my attention! I hope you like where I took it in this fic.  
> Sara Bareilles for: the song "Fire," which titled this fic.

It's the sort of hazy June morning Twyla loves. Coffee's brewing in the kitchen, its aroma mingling with the mint and lemon incense she reserves for the early hours of the day. Sunlight streams in through her kitchen windows, illuminating the crystals arranged on her table: amethyst, amazonite, flouride, and moonstone. She touches each in turn, moving around them in a familiar ritual.

She isn't a witch, but nothing soothes her soul and readies her abilities like this practice. Twyla closes her eyes, humming under her breath as she reaches out with her mind to hear the answering whispers of those beyond the veil separating earth from the surrounding realms. 

Many are old friends, loved ones and acquaintances who've passed on and remained close. Others are strangers to her, driven by lack of resolution or closure. Twyla welcomes their collective presence equally, without judgment.

  


* * *

  


Twyla can't remember the last time she's been truly alone. Spirits have always surrounded her, had even watched over her, cheering her on with coos and soft words, when she took her first steps. They'd soothed her when her father lost control of his magic and went to jail, and provided comfort when her mother's own mediumship overpowered her day-to-day.

Of course, both she and her mother had known it was coming; a medium's visions extend past the beyond and into the future. Fortune-telling isn't crystal-clear – it’s not like she can predict exactly what will happen to her tomorrow – but Twyla made her peace long ago with knowing bits and pieces of her fate, learning them whenever they'd be revealed to her. She writes each of her collected hints down in her dream journal, waiting patiently for the day that their truths will be known. 

As practiced of a medium as she is, as much as she'd learned to accept and cherish her abilities, she still sometimes questions destiny. Does she create her own fate by choosing to act upon the signs she was given, or is she pre-determined to take those actions? What kind of control does she have? 

Some mediums allow themselves to lose themselves in the future. She knows that's what happened to her mother; she'd focused every bit of her abilities on divining the mysteries of the future to avoid another heartbreak like her dad, and it had broken her. 

She's been tempted, too. When she'd first had her heart broken by Mutt in high school, Twyla had cried into her pillowcase and wished she'd never known him, that she'd never opened her heart up to anyone. She'd tried to do what Stevie had suggested and push him away, to use her mediumship to fortell who else could possibly hurt her next. But she learned very quickly that for her, living like that isn't living. 

The what-ifs, though, like where she'd be if she hadn't left Schitt's Creek five years ago, are harder for her to shake. Her departure hadn't been due to the lottery money; she'd been happy to put the majority of it in the bank and give some to Mutt to help him start up his construction business. The rest had gone into the café. New staff, menus, upholstery, decor... it was the first time she'd given herself the chance to transform a place into the vision she saw in her mind's eye. The grand reopening had been one of her proudest moments.

But what if Mutt hadn't asked her to go into business with him, flipping and selling properties in Toronto? Would she have stayed? Would she have felt fulfilled? 

Twyla finishes her coffee, her eyes on the incense stick as it dwindles down to its ends, anchoring herself to the here and now. She has to believe in what fate has in store for her.

  


* * *

  


"Busy day today," she says brightly, shrugging off her sweater and settling it on the back of her chair. She's had this office for years, but she sometimes still feels like she's playing dress-up whenever she got to work. 

"Yep. Sure will be." Mutt nods behind his computer as he reviews the day's list of appointments. She grins at him; they both know that she'll do most of the talking, but their clients like to have him present nonetheless. Twyla knows most people wouldn't likely choose to work with their ex day in and day out, but it somehow works for them. "I gotta stop by a few of the new sites this afternoon, too." 

"Do you need me to come with you?" she asks. The Riverdale properties are nearing the end of their builds, so it's almost time for her to do a deeper cleansing to flush out any lingering ghosts and spirits. He's alluded to having some trouble with the site on Withrow; she might have to cleanse it out earlier in their process than they usually would. "I should have some free time." 

"Nah, it's all right." He takes a bite out of his bagel, chewing thoughtfully. "Besides, I, uh. Might've booked you for another appointment this afternoon, so you can't come with." 

"You did?" Twyla opens her calendar again, scanning it quickly. "I don't see it here." 

"Just happened." Mutt grimaces apologetically. "It's with... You know the Roses, right?"

Of course she does. Johnny Rose owns Schitt's Creek, somehow – however that works – and when Twyla and Mutt had been in high school, the whole Rose family had spent their summer vacations in the town. They had a daughter Twyla's age, but their only interactions had been at the café, and they hadn't been the friendliest. 

"How could I forget?" Twyla puts on her sunniest smile. Yes, she and Mutt can work together and do it well, and it’s been years since she’d felt passed over and discarded for something shinier and newer, but the old wound still smarts a bit, if she lets it. She resolves not to. “They made quite an impression on everyone when they first came to town, but now I can't imagine home without David's apothecary. Is he opening more branches in Toronto?”

“No." Mutt's silent, mulling over his thoughts, tossing a guilty look over in her direction. "It's Alexis." 

"Oh, I see." she turns, busying herself with fixing her own bagel and taking advantage of having her back towards Mutt. David had grown up a lot since when they were kids, but Alexis had always managed to upend things in her wake whenever she'd visit Schitt's Creek. "I thought she lives in New York?"

"She did. Think she's wanting to expand her business up here, do the whole back-and-forth thing." 

Twyla glances over her shoulder at him. "I didn't realize you two kept in touch so well." She can't recall Mutt ever mentioning her, but he also doesn't say much in general.

"Every now and then." He stands up, brushing his hands clean of crumbs, and moves over a little closer. She doesn't have to tap into her abilities to sense his contrition. "I'm sorry, I should've asked before. It was just, you know. She knows what I do for a living and reached out. I figured it'd be okay, but I can tell her to find another realtor?"

"Oh, no. It's okay." Even if Twyla doesn't necessarily believe herself, she intends to make it come true. She smiles, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. "It's been years since everything happened, and I'm sure we have a lot to catch up on!"

  


* * *

  


"Hi! I'm Alexis Rose, from Alexis Rose Communications." 

She's barely entered the office, but her presence fills the room and presses against Twyla's senses. For a moment, it's almost like she'd been jolted back over a decade to the last summer the Roses had spent in Schitt's Creek, after they'd both graduated from high school: Alexis with her long legs and bright, patterned shorts, and Twyla feeling drab and dowdy in her jeans and flowy shirt.

"Hi, Alexis." Twyla pauses, waiting for any sign of recognition – they'd spent four summers together in the same tiny town, after all – but none seems to come. "I'm Twyla Sands."

Alexis beams at her; maybe she'd just needed the name to place her face? "I know! And this place is _super_ cute, by the way." She moves smoothly inside, then takes a seat in front of Twyla's desk. "Mutt told me you were the _best_ realtor in Toronto." She leans in, punctuating her sentence with an exaggerated wink: "and I _only_ work with the best." 

"I – thank you." 

Twyla isn't sure why she's so disappointed; it isn't as though they'd had a friendship back then, a decade ago, but she had hoped to not be entirely forgettable. But realistically, logically, she knows she can't be everyone's cup of tea. She and Alexis just aren't destined to be friends – which is perfectly fine! Twyla doesn't want to burn any bridges, anyway. 

"Why don't we start by telling me what kind of home you're looking for?"

"Oh, sure!" Alexis wiggles her shoulders, a self-indulgent smile settling onto her features. "So I've like, spent most of my life in New York, and that's where I started my business. And it's doing _super_ super well. Which as a fellow girl boss in this _very_ neat and tidy office, you must know the feeling, right?" Twyla opens her mouth to respond, but Alexis interrupts her before she can string words together. "I have a ton of clients in the city and it's not like I'm never coming back, but I just kind of have been thinking over the last few months – which is sometimes not the best look for me, but what are you going to do! – that maybe it was time to reconnect with my Canadian roots!" 

_She's nervous,_ Twyla realizes. It's such an odd thing to think in the context of Alexis Rose, miniature tornado. When they'd been younger, she'd always envied how easy everything seemed to be for Alexis, but Twyla can't help but realize how unrealistic that was now. 

"That's great," she says reassuringly. Alexis hasn't actually said anything about what she wants in a home, but Twyla figures she can read between the lines. Mediums are good at that. "So you're looking for something that feels... a little more unique to Toronto, so that you know it's your Canadian home specifically, but something that's also similar to where you live in New York, to make the relocation a little easier for you. Does that sound right?" 

Alexis does another wiggle – more of a full-on shimmy this time, really – as she reaches forward to tap the desk between them, Twyla's gaze following the brief gesture all the while. She'd forgotten how everything about Alexis was so distinctly hers. "Ooh, you totally hit the nail on the head, Twy! Love that for you, _and_ for me!" 

She beams, brightly, and Twyla can't help but crack a smile. Despite their past, which Alexis has apparently forgotten all about, everything about her is infectious. "I should add, Twy, I'm going to be working from home, too. But I would _love_ a separate live/work kind of situation, so maybe there's like, a ground floor where I could have my office, and maybe meet with clients? And then when I'm done with work, I can go upstairs and just..." Alexis sweeps one arm dramatically. "Get away from it all!"

"Sure." Twyla nods, taking some quick notes. She's already mentally sifting through their available properties, trying to identify some that would work for what Alexis was looking for. But first, she needs to make sure there won't be any surprises.

She gestures towards some of the crystals she keeps behind her desk, the candles and oils on the shelves, and the assortment of herbs next to her mortar and pestle. "Mutt mentioned that I specialize in cleansed properties, right?" 

"Oh, uh-huh." Alexis winds a lock of hair around one finger. "He totally did."

"Okay." Twyla watches as, unprompted, Alexis reaches for one of the rosemary lemon cookies they kept in the office for good luck, just like she used to steal pastries off the café counter so long ago. Funny how things have a tendency to repeat themselves. "And you know that means that I work with spirits and ghosts, right? To remove them from the houses and apartments we flip?"

Alexis takes a big bite of the cookie, then makes a dramatic show of closing her eyes and nodding her head. "Mm, Twy, this is _so_ good! Can I have another?"

"I, um." Twyla bites the inside of her cheek, holding in another smile. In an odd way, she can see why Mutt had been so drawn to her back then. Alexis is utterly fascinating, like the sudden appearance of a rainbow in a cloudy sky or the way a precious stone catches light. She can understand why a person would want to chase after that. "Sure. Go ahead."

  


* * *

  


There are a couple of properties that Twyla and Mutt have been working on that might fit: a duplex in the Annex that's within Alexis' price point even if she buys both of the apartments; a house in Rosedale with big windows and nice, tall ceilings; a few options in The Beaches that could be up her alley.

After working with Alexis to pick a sunny Saturday that works for both of their schedules, Twyla bites her lip as she browses her closet, looking for something to wear. She isn't typically one to pay all that much attention to what she wears, especially when she's working, but something about Alexis Rose has her second-guessing her worth.

Twyla hates bringing this kind of negative energy to a work event, though. She dips her thumb in one of her oils, rubbing it into the black candle on her dresser from middle to top, then middle to bottom. Once it's lit, she allows her mind to empty and center itself, choosing to focus not on her insecurities but instead on the flame in front of her. She breathes in the scent, taking it in and imbuing herself with its magic, and lets it out. 

_When Mutt chose Alexis over ten years ago, that was more of a reflection of their hearts than of yours_ , she tells herself, repeating the words until she nearly believes them. She's forgiven Mutt; why hasn't she forgiven Alexis?

  


* * *

  


"Hey, Twy!" Alexis is actually _waving_ as Twyla's car pulls up outside of her office, parking next to what has to be Alexis' car: a silver BMW with the license plate 'AL3X1S.' "We're taking your car, right?"

"Yeah, hop in." Twyla leans over to open the door for her, then picks up her bag and hands it to Alexis. "There's a couple of things in there for you, if you wanted any? Some lemonade, more of the cookies..."

" _Yum_!" Alexis takes out a baggie of cookies and one of the bottles Twyla had packed, twisting the cap open before she even sets Twyla's bag in the backseat. "Thanks, Twy, you're the _best_. Do you _always_ do this for your clients? It's so sweet!" 

Twyla glances over at her as she pulls back into traffic, nodding. "Yeah. It's just a little something... I like to bake at home, and it's nice to start these tours on the right foot. Are you familiar with green magic?" 

She's surprised when Alexis, normally so gregarious, is silent. At first, Twyla thinks she's just caught her with a mouthful of cookie, but when she catches sight of her face in the mirror, the look in her eyes is almost guarded. 

"Not too much," she says after a moment. She smiles crookedly, shaking her head, and a little more light comes back into her face. "I don't really have a feel for that kind of thing. But I _love_ these cookies, so you've clearly got the right touch for it?"

"Thank you." Even when she's struggling to reconcile the Alexis she used to know with the woman next to her, Twyla can't deny how Alexis seems to make everything shine brighter. "And yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm a medium, so it's always come naturally to me. There's basil in the lemonade, for posterity, and the rosemary in the cookies is for luck. I can't call on that magic as easily as a witch or warlock could, but I do okay."

"Better than okay, if I have anything to say about it!" Alexis reaches for another cookie, then sets the bag in the cupholder between them. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a kitchen witch, not a medium."

"Thanks," Twyla says again, then realizes she's smiling. "I'm sure you've gotten the opportunity to taste lots of cookies in your day, so I'm honored." 

"Oh, I'm a real cookie connoisseur." Alexis turns the radio on without asking, then sets the dial on what happens to be Twyla's favorite station. "So when I say these are the best cookies I've ever had, you better believe me." 

Twyla laughs, surprising herself. "You're ridiculous, Alexis."

Alexis shakes her head, tossing her hair with a feigned kind of superiority that only makes Twyla laugh harder. "You love it."

  


* * *

  


They see five listings, but none of them seem to fully suit Alexis. The duplex doesn't have a big enough bedroom for her taste, the house's neighborhood doesn't have the right vibe, and she says something about bad memories involving Hayden Christensen when Twyla shows her the properties in The Beaches. 

Alexis wrings her hands, a tiny little pout on her face. "We're going to find a place, right?"

"Of course we will!" Twyla's trying to sound reassuring, but she and Mutt don't have the same volume of listings as bigger realtors and property management groups and she doesn't want to lose Alexis' business. She tries to recall all their current properties as she drives, then one hits her: "You know, I do have one more place we could take a look at. It won't fully be ready until maybe a few weeks from now, but it wouldn't hurt anything to take a look."

Alexis squeals, clapping her hands together. "Really, Twy? That would be _so_ awesome!" 

"Well, if Alexis Rose is going to think I'm awesome, I guess I can show you one more place." Twyla takes a left, then gestures to the building as they begin to approach. It's a red brick building, a former church, and even from the outside she can see how painstakingly the double-floor stained glass windows have been restored. 

"We were really lucky to get the unit we have here," she says as she parks. Alexis is nearly leaning out the window, she's so captivated. Twyla takes that as a good sign. "Mutt just finished the interior, and I just have to do my cleansing before it's all set."

"Oh, you're _sure_ it isn't ready now?" Alexis practically bursts out the car, her hair bouncing as she strides toward the dual arched entrances. 

"I'm sure," Twyla says with a laugh, following in her wake. She takes out her keyring, searching for the right one, and unlocks the door for them. Alexis tips her head back, taking in the woodworking in the entryway, and grins as she turns to face her.

"I love it here," Alexis says, reaching out to squeeze Twyla's shoulder. Her eyes are bright. "Like, _so_ much." 

"You haven't even seen the apartment yet!" Twyla steps forward, intending on unlocking the lobby door, and Alexis' hand skims down her arm as she moves out of her grasp. She hesitates for a moment, her key still in the lock as she regains her bearings, then opens the door. The unit is just the second one down on the left, so it isn't long until they're crossing the threshold. 

She'd at least had a chance to put salt around the entryway and windowsills before Mutt had started construction, but they haven't done much good; she and Alexis aren't alone. 

"Don't say anything you don't want others to overhear," she jokes, but it goes unheard. Alexis is already opening doors, peeking into the utility room and washer/dryer, the room on the ground floor that Twyla can already see would be perfect for her live-in office. 

"I wanna die, Twy, this place is _gorgeous_!" Alexis sidesteps some leftover tarp that Mutt hasn't cleaned up yet, making a bee-line for the stained glass along the back wall. She reaches out, tracing the patterns and colors, and Twyla follows the path of her fingers as she draws closer, taking in the sight.

The stained glass is beautiful, a mix of dusky reds and oranges in one corner that seamlessly blend with blues and greens as they come together to outline shapes and figures. Above them, the first floor ends a few meters ahead of the stained glass, allowing it to stretch unencumbered between the two levels. Alexis is craning her neck, looking up to see how far it goes. Something's tugging at Twyla, though, and she makes a shooing motion with one hand before she draws in a sharp breath: she's seen this window before.

It'd been covered up when she and Mutt had toured the place, and had been the last couple of times she'd stopped by. Twyla has a sketch of it in her dream journal, though; it'd come to her when she was sixteen, and it was unmistakably the window in front of her right now, with Alexis Rose by her side.

She doesn't know what it means. But she allows Alexis to take her hand, pulling her towards the stairs, without argument. There's plenty more for them to see.


	2. Alexis

It takes a little begging, a fair amount of wheedling, and more cajoling than Alexis expected, so she can't help but jump, pulling Twyla into a tight hug, when her realtor finally agrees to 'look into' speeding up the cleansing process for the apartment in Leslieville. 

They're both caught off-guard; Twyla's stiff at first, arms at her sides, before she brings them up to pat Alexis on the back. She's smiling as she pulls away, though, so Alexis relaxes. "Sorry," she says, flashing Twyla a toothy grin. "Promise I don't have cooties! And I'm sure you can just, like... hire a housekeeping service, right? You don't have to do all that 'cleansing' yourself!" 

"Oh, but I do," Twyla says. She glances again at the master bathroom, her brows furrowed; Alexis wonders what she's looking at. She figures she, too, must be thinking about the perfect claw-foot tub, the one that had solidified Alexis' decision to choose this space over any others. 

"That's so sweet, how you like to put your own little finishing touch on the properties." Alexis leads them outside, wrapping her arms around herself as they take in the view from the balcony. The sun's beginning to set, casting a vibrant light on the rooftops that surround them. "I can't wait to live here!" 

Twyla leans against the balcony guardrail, a soft smile on her face. "I'm actually not too far away from here," she says. She points off into the distance, glancing over at Alexis. "In case you need to borrow a cup of sugar." 

"Oh, that's okay." Alexis shifts so they're side-by-side, then leans over to bump their shoulders together. "I can just buy my own sugar. But you and Mutt _are_ the only people I know in Toronto, so far, so if you have any suggestions on your fave spaces, where you like to meet new people – not that you and Mutt aren't _awesome_ , but it's good to be well-connected – I'm all ears!"

"I'll put a list together," Twyla says. Somehow, Alexis has no doubt that she'll keep her word. "I'm happy to help."

  


* * *

  


When Alexis first realized that things with her ex weren't working out, she hadn't anticipated that it would get to the point where she'd want to flee the country. But she saw Ted in the reflection of her mirror, where he'd stand behind her as they got ready for their days, and every sidewalk and street corner reminded her of shared memories. 

She'd imagined a forever with Ted, and even though she lasted through a whole three months in New York after their breakup, she's still reeling from their separation. Alexis almost wishes that someone had cheated, or if there had been obvious red flags at play. She would have preferred anything else instead of her secrets chipping away at the foundation of what they'd built together, cracking and widening until they were on separate sides looking in. 

Her first instinct had been to charter a jet, to hide away somewhere like St. Petersburg or Smyrna until she gets a hold of herself. Alexis has outgrown that need to hide, though, even if she hasn't fully shaken the urge to run. So instead of the anonymity of a complete disappearance, she packed her bags and surprised David and Patrick on their doorstep in Schitt's Creek.

She'll come home eventually, she's sure. But for now, a fresh start somewhere 'new' is exactly what she needs. Whenever a door closes, a window opens – or something – but she can't open a window if she's still trying to open a door.

  


* * *

  


Twyla estimates it'll take two months to close on the apartment from start-to-finish, all-inclusive of the necessary paperwork and inspections and cleansing and contracts, so Alexis throws herself into her work.

She rents a temporary private office out of the WeWork on Bloor and systematically introduces herself to almost all of the other co-workers in the space. She videoconferences with the New York team, reading their updates first and last thing every day, and sets a couple discovery calls with some potential Toronto clients. By the time that August rolls around and Twyla is calling to congratulate her on a successful close, she's already signed four contracts. 

They schedule time for an official hand-off, and Alexis insists on dinner: pizzas, because she's a teensy bit homesick for her favorite place in New York, and a bottle of wine to celebrate. Twyla's already at a table when she arrives at the restaurant, and a cute little jar is resting on the empty chair across from her.

"Ooh, is this a little something for me?" Alexis picks up the jar, turning it over in her hands. She can smell the heady mix of its contents even through the wax seal. Roses, definitely – she’s pretty sure she came out of the womb knowing that scent – as well as what has to be sandalwood and lavender. 

Twyla nods, a smile flickering briefly on her face. “It’s a blessing jar,” she explains. “To attract love and positive energy into your home. I give them to all of my clients when they close.” 

Alexis holds the jar a little closer, closing her eyes as she focuses on a deep inhale. “My brother’ll be so mad,” she says with a laugh, refocusing on Twyla. “I think he sells this kind of thing, but yours is so much better than his.” 

Twyla tilts her head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. It’s cute, how totally non-showy she is. Demure, even; it steadies Alexis, reminds her she doesn’t always have to be on. “Well, I made mine especially for you,” she says. “So I might’ve… everything I used has a purpose, but some of them I chose because they reminded me of your perfume.”

“Really? So it’s like… really, totally custom for me?” Alexis can’t help but look down at the jar again, like it’s a talisman Twyla unearthed from the ground just for her. She has a New York closet full of discarded gifts and stolen treasures from long-ago suitors and adventures around the world, but this feels more precious to her than the Cartier necklace Klair passed off to her when they crashed a wedding at Monte Carlo.

She bites her lip, trying to pull back on a smile, but it doesn’t stop her from adding: “I hope you don’t mind, but I think we’re gonna become best friends.” 

Twyla laughs, meeting her eyes. “I don’t mind.”

  


* * *

  


When it’s time for the big move-in day, Alexis supervises the delivery men in jean cutoffs and a shimmery silver tank. She’d had to order all-new furniture, but she hadn’t exactly minded an excuse to shop. Mutt had accompanied her, showing her which pieces were solidly made and worth her money, and Twyla’s here now, painting sigils for luck, protection, and happiness on the bottom of her furniture. The workers hold the furniture up for Twyla as she paints, their collective patience wearing thin, before the sigils are sealed and Alexis shows them exactly where to set them down. 

It’s sweet, really, how much of Twyla’s life is steeped in supernatural culture. Not that Alexis is a skeptic; she’s seen enough magic in her lifetime to know it’s as real as she is, and Mutt’s lycanthropy and Patrick’s shapeshifting abilities are undeniable. But the people she knows don’t seem to be as invested in their nature as Twyla is. 

She’s only just starting to get to know her, but she can tell how wholeheartedly she applies herself to what she does. Every action of hers seems conscious and deliberate; she never seems to falter or to second-guess. Alexis wonders what it must be like to live with such certainty. It must be nice, she thinks, to be so comfortable in one’s skin.

  


* * *

  


“I’m exhausted,” Alexis says once it’s all over, flopping unceremoniously onto her new couch. She’s vaguely regretting choosing white for the upholstery, but it looks so perfect against the light pink paint on her walls. Twyla follows suit, pulling her feet up and leaning against the corner of the couch towards her. “What a long day!”

Twyla quirks one eyebrow, her eyes lighting up. Alexis is beginning to recognize her little tells; to amuse herself, she makes a game out of identifying her friend’s emotions before she makes them obvious. She loves getting to know someone anew, building a little file in her mind with each successful guess. 

“You didn’t even physically move any of the furniture, Alexis. What made you so tired?” Twyla’s smile is wry and knowing, and Alexis is blushing for some reason. Maybe Twyla’s starting to learn her, too; maybe she really means it when she says they're becoming friends.

“Well, you know.” Alexis wiggles her shoulders, twining one of her hands into her hair to lift it off of her neck. The air's on in her apartment, but she still feels sticky from the day's move. “It’s a lot of hard work, conceptualizing all these different spaces and turning all my ideas into a reality. Everything had to be just right!” 

“I’m sure.” Twyla glances around the living room, then into the cream and teal kitchen on the other side of the first floor. “You did a really great job picking things out for this place, by the way. Maybe I should hire you to help me stage my properties.”

Alexis beams, sitting up a little straighter. “Ooh, that would be so fun!” 

Twyla rests her head against one of her hands, smiling over at her. “Well, I can’t trust Mutt to do it, so. Next time I have somewhere that’s ready, I’ll call you.” 

“Call me whenever you want,” Alexis says before she can stop herself. She knows she’s been pushing this friendship, that Twyla probably has plenty of friends on her own in Toronto, but she can’t help it. It’s nice to feel appreciated.

  


* * *

  


Twyla does one final sweep throughout the apartment, imbuing each room with the smell of palo santo and her candles, then leaves Alexis with a welcome basket of her new favorite cookies, more blessing jars for the different levels of her home, and a list of the nearby restaurants she likes the most. 

The door closes behind her, and then Alexis is all alone in her new apartment. She trails her fingertips along the staircase as she makes her way upstairs, has a glass of wine and five cookies for dinner, and checks her email. The New York team’s in the middle of pulling off a huge campaign, and she smiles as she reviews the data that’s beginning to come in. 

She doesn’t intend to really work during her move-in weekend, though, even if the apartment’s maybe a tiny bit too big for just her and she isn’t fully sure what to do now that she’s by herself. She’d shared her New York apartment with Ted, and after he moved out, it still felt manageable for just her. She wonders if she made a mistake, buying a place so big, but she finds a _Twilight_ movie marathon on television and allows it to distract her from the loneliness of her evening.

She makes it through all five, even if she watches the final one with bleary, sleepy eyes, then sees herself off to her skincare routine and to bed. Despite her unfamiliar surroundings and her second-guessing, it doesn’t take long until she drifts off to sleep.

And then: “Wake up, pretty girl.”

Alexis jolts upright. Her hands clutch at her bedsheets, and she blinks rapidly as she tries to adjust to the darkness. Silence surrounds her; it must have been a dream. 

She isn’t entirely sure, though. Her heart’s pounding in her ears, and she tries to remain as still as she can to listen. Then the floorboards start to creak, echoing from left to right, and she hears the voice again: “Welcome to my house, pretty girl. What’s your name?”

“I’m not going to talk to you!” Alexis is fully aware she’s contradicting herself, but it’s hard to think straight when she feels like she’s going to vomit. She twists, turning on the light, but no one’s there. She’s sweating, breathing hard – she thinks of David telling her to get murdered first, ‘for once’ – and carefully gets out of bed. 

Alexis reaches for the rings she’d took off before lying down, sliding them onto her fingers and making sure the jewels and diamonds are facing out just in case she has to punch someone. She’s done worse in her lifetime, as the Black Hand can attest; this should be nothing.

She bends down, but she can already see that no one’s under the bed. Alexis goes to the closet next, then her bathroom – but she’s all alone.

The only sound she can hear now is her ragged breathing, amplified by her panic. She waits in place, light on the balls of her feet in case she needs to throw her weight into a jab, then huffs in frustration when all she gets out of it is a leg cramp. It's better than having to fight some freaky, weirdly-complimentary, _invisible_ predator in the middle of the night, but it's still not ideal.

She picks her phone back up, then dials.

  


* * *

  


"So what did it say to you?" Mutt scratches at his beard, his brows furrowed. Twyla hadn't answered her phone, even though Alexis had called like seven times, but her ex had been up late 'working on on a chair.' She's grateful for any company, though, even if he isn't who she'd been hoping to see.

She shakes her head, weary; it's way past her bedtime at this point, but her adrenaline's keeping her up. It's not even the good kind of rush, like when she bungee jumped into the Grand Canyon or woke up in Antarctica. "'Wake up, pretty girl.' Which is like, I mean." Alexis gives a casual little shrug, unable to help herself. "At least it has _taste_ , whatever it is, but also, like, can it _see_ me? Was it watching me change into my pajamas?"

Mutt glances up at the second floor, squinting, then back down at Alexis. "Thought Twyla took care of all this stuff. Weird she's not answering, either."

"What stuff?" Alexis knows _something's_ going on, but he's acting way too nonchalant about this for her liking.

"I thought you knew. Twyla specializes in expelling ghosts and stuff. Extraplanar creatures. Demons." Mutt takes a seat at her kitchen island. "Didn't you see all the stuff in our office?" 

"I mean, I _did_?" Alexis thinks through all of their conversations again, and all that talk of 'cleansing.' She purses her lips into a pout. "But I thought that was like, you know. She just was a medium who had, like, a particular affinity for green magic, and really liked things to be clean." She's suddenly feeling particularly ignorant about the mystical world that surrounds her. "I thought mediums just did fortune telling and numerology and that kind of thing, talking to ghosts and stuff."

"She does that stuff, yeah." Mutt tilts his head, watching Alexis with obvious concern. "But her connection's pretty strong. I mean, that's how she's talked about it before. Don't really know that much about how it works." 

Alexis' pout deepens. Today was supposed to be a triumph, her first night in her new home, and now it's tainted with the insolence of an otherworldly being. "I just wish she'd answer her phone so she can get this thing out of my house."

  


* * *

  


Mutt invites her back to his place so she can sleep somewhere that isn't haunted, but she cajoles him into sleeping over instead. The last thing she wants is to spend any more time in the same place as the invisible, pervy _thing_ , but Alexis doesn't want to stray too far away from Twyla if she's her only hope for getting the thing out of her home. 

They turn the living room into something out of her early childhood sleepover memories, albeit a little less cozy and with a lot more silence from her guest despite her best efforts at making conversation. Mutt takes the floor while she's on the couch, they leave the lights on, and Alexis manages to actually fall asleep for a few hours.

When she wakes up, Mutt's tapping away on his phone on the ground next to her. "Twyla's awake," he says. "We've got a couple meetings this morning that we can't get out of, but she can come by this afternoon to get it out of here."

Alexis claps her hands; a quick resolution thanks to her new almost-bestie's ghosthunting expertise is _perfect_. "Ooh, yay!" She sits up, stretching her arms overhead as she yawns, then grins at Mutt. "Can I come to the office and do some work?"

"Uh," he says, then repeats himself: "We're gonna have meetings."

"Me, too! But don't worry, you'll barely know I'm there." 

Mutt doesn't seem all that convinced, but she's in his car within a half hour with her bag over her shoulder, guiding him towards the nearest coffee shop before they go to their realty. "Alexis is here," he says unnecessarily, following her into the office. 

"You would not believe the night we've had!" Alexis sets Twyla's pineapple matcha on her desk, then envelops her in a hug. Alexis has had a little too much caffeine for how little sleep she had, and her grin feels tight on her face. "I can't believe you didn't answer your phone!"

Twyla's gaze shifts over Alexis' shoulder towards Mutt, then back to her. A tiny line appears between her eyebrows, like she's thinking super hard about something. Unbidden, Alexis reaches out to smooth it out, but the line only deepens at the gesture. "I thought I had it plugged in before bed, but it died and I missed everything. I'm so sorry that something's still in your apartment, Alexis." Twyla puts her hands on her hips, stress creasing her mouth into a sad little frown. "I should've done a better job of cleansing the place."

"Babe," Alexis says, her hands on Twyla's shoulders, squeezing gently. She's been panicked all morning, but that doesn't seem important right now. "I promise, it's totally fine. I really don't mind having a demon." If she says it aloud, Alexis can almost convince herself, too. She learned early on, the first time she'd let a romantic getaway turn into a hostage situation, that she can rewrite her history by changing the lens through which she looks at it. A pretty smile, paired with the right attitude and a flick of her hair, can very easily will away the concern that rises in people's eyes. "I'm okay, and we'll just, you know. After work, we'll go and get that thing out of there!"

"We'll see, Alexis. I hope it's that simple." There's the tiniest little hint of a smile on her face, though, so Alexis takes it as a win despite the gloominess of her words. "Again, I'm really sorry. I should've done my job better."

"Twy! It's totally okay." After all, what's one little demon? Alexis puts on her brightest smile as she takes her laptop out of her tote, setting it on a spare desk. Mutt raises his eyebrows, glancing over at Twyla, but pulls up a chair at her desk instead.

  


* * *

  


Later that day, Twyla cries out, wincing, as soon as she enters Alexis' apartment. The look on her face is so out of place on her – her nose scrunched, her mouth drawn tight – that Alexis turns sharply to face her, one of her hands latching onto Twyla's. "What is it?"

Twyla closes the door behind them, her spare hand rummaging around for all the supplies from her office that she'd put in her oversized bag. "There's definitely something here. Something bad."

Alexis' stomach sinks; through sheer willpower alone, she'd managed to convince herself that Twyla would be able to fix this lickety-split. "Like, how bad? It can't be _that_ bad?" Except that now that she's home again, she thinks she can start to feel it, too. Dread washes down the back of her neck, ice cold and spilling down her spine, and she tightens her hold on Twyla as she shivers. "Okay, it's bad."

Twyla turns, eyes on Alexis. Despite the summer weather outside, the apartment is frigid. Her teeth chatter slightly as she asks, "Was it like this last night?"

Alexis shakes her head. They've barely made it into her apartment, but she's already ready to flee. "No. It was just... banging around, talking to me. And then when I turned the lights on, I didn't hear anything, and when Mutt was over nothing happened."

Twyla lets go of her hand, reaching for more of her things: several white candles, which she hands to Alexis, then a large crystal. Reluctantly, lingering on each step in some kind of unspoken agreement to take their time, they start to make their way up to the first floor. "It might have been biding its time, gaining strength."

"I was hoping it'd just decide it was bored of this place and leave, but." Alexis casts her gaze around her kitchen and living room, anxious. The sense of imminent doom is even worse now that they're higher up, and it's so fucking cold despite the sunlight casting generously in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She wraps her arms tightly around herself. "This is a great apartment, so I can see why it'd want to stick around."

"I don't know what happened. There must have been an entrance I couldn't feel, so I missed it, and now it's wide open." Twyla sounds so guilty, her shoulders visibly shaking from the temperature, but she goes about setting up the candles in some kind of diagram Alexis can't make sense of. The crystals get arranged, too, and then she repeats the process in the living room.

Alexis opens and closes her hands reflexively, wanting to be useful, before she grits her teeth and looks up at the ceiling, where her bedroom is. "I'll be right back," she promises. Unlike their slow ascent earlier, she takes the steps two-at-a-time up to the second floor. The cold is even worse on the top level; Alexis has goosebumps up and down her body, but she manages to scrounge up a few things in her arms. 

"Here!" She practically throws the clothing at Twyla, then almost trips as she stumbles into what she'd brought herself. She pulls the leggings on underneath her skirt, for once not even caring about what her finished outfit will end up looking like, then throws on a sweater she stole from David. 

Across the room, Twyla's now wearing a pair of her comfiest joggers and shrugging on a leather jacket. It's all slightly too big on her, but Alexis can't help but smile as she watches her. 

"Thanks," Twyla says, holding Alexis' gaze. She smiles as Alexis shrugs her shoulders, the both of them telegraphing _what else are we gonna do but make the best of this?_ to one another, before she returns to her work.

  


* * *

  


By the time Twyla and Alexis leave her apartment, each of them carrying one of Alexis' suitcases in each hand, both of them are wearing enough layers to nearly usher in winter. Twyla had needed to set up one of her configurations in each of the rooms, recruiting Alexis to help after she'd had at least one example to point to. The temperature had continued to drop the longer they stayed, sealing all the windows so the demon wouldn't escape to the other apartments or even out of the building. Finally, after sealing the door, too, they'd put some 'Caution: Paranormal Activity' tape on it and made a quick retreat.

"At least you heard it, too," Alexis says brightly; she's shedding clothes, stuffing them into a weekender bag set on top of her car. "So I don't feel like I'm just, like, totally imagining things. I'll take that as a win."

Twyla rolls up the layers Alexis had given her, tucking them neatly into the weekender. "I'm not sure that hearing a demon's voice saying, 'I'm going to rip your pretty head off tonight' is a win." 

"I mean, the _content_ isn't great?" Alexis opens her trunk and hefts one of her suitcases into it, and Twyla follows suit. If she can find a silver lining, even if it's the smallest possible lining that ever existed – like the velvet on her leopard bralette, for example – she might be able to stave off a total breakdown. "But it makes me feel better, you hearing it too."

Twyla's quiet for a moment, studying her. Her face is open and wondering, her green eyes bright in the sun, and Alexis can't help but feel exposed. She isn't sure how mediums really function; is Twyla divining her future right before her eyes?

Instead of some grand prediction, though, Twyla simply says: "It's okay if you're freaked out, Alexis. You don't have to pretend that all of this is okay." 

Alexis' mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out besides a nervous trill of a laugh and a shake of her hair. That's usually enough to distract someone, but Twyla's gaze is still on hers, genuine and kind. "I'm not – _pretending_. I'm just –"

"It's okay to be freaked out," Twyla says again, more firmly. She moves closer to Alexis, tilting her head up. "And it's okay to be mad at me, or annoyed, or whatever else you're possibly feeling. I didn't do my job, and I put you in danger. I'm sorry." 

Alexis' gaze falls; suddenly, it's easier to look at the road or the house behind Twyla, anywhere else besides her eyes. Her breathing's grown shallow, and when she speaks again she winces at the tremor in her voice. "I'm sorry, too. I know I pushed you guys to go faster." She gives a rueful little smile, shaking her head, eyes still down. "I've been told before that I don't have a lot of patience."

Twyla places a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. Alexis isn't sure she's ever met anyone so sweet before. "Come on, let's go. It's been a long day."

  


* * *

  


It's barely a matter of minutes before Alexis parks her car outside of Twyla's house; apparently, they really do both live within walking distance of each other. 

"Well, this is me," Twyla says. She glances modestly over her shoulder at her own home, and Alexis follows her gaze. "Not as fancy or modern as your place, but –"

"Twy, I love it!" It's exactly the kind of place that Alexis would have imagined Twyla living in: big, tall windows with black trim, a spacious porch, and a cute little garden out front. "Thanks so much for letting me stay here." 

"It's the least I could do, all things considered." Twyla cocks an eyebrow as Alexis starts taking her suitcases out, pressing her lips together. "You know, I should've asked earlier, but – are you really going to need all of these? It should only be a couple of days; I swear I'm going to get this taken care of as soon as I can."

"Don't be silly!" Alexis slings the weekender over her shoulder, then takes two of her suitcases in hand. Reluctantly, Twyla follows suit. "I never know what I'm going to want to wear until I'm wearing it, and I have a lot of new clients to schmooze." She's feeling so much better now that they're away from her demon-infested hellhole, she's practically bouncing as she waits for Twyla to unlock the door and let them in.

It's just as pretty on the inside as it is on the outside, and not at all cluttered. In another life, Alexis would feign interest in a person's things, say something polite and change the subject, but here she walks around like she's in a museum, taking in all of these things that are precious to _Twyla_.

Alexis spends a little extra time at the bookshelves, peering curiously at their contents. Nothing is necessarily new to her – she's been around witches and warlocks before, and had even spent a regrettable five hours in her brothers' first apothecary, cataloging incense burners and oils – but she still doesn't know how one would actually use all these things. 

She lets her mind fill in the blanks with some semi-informed guesses as she takes it all in. She imagines Twyla among the tools of her trade, what she would look like and what she would do while she's actively using the mortar and pestle sets, browsing her modest collection of herbs, lighting the candles. Artwork hangs in the corner of her living room, above a small table and chairs; Alexis can see Twyla sitting there, brow furrowed while she's meditating on, like, a connection to the beyond, or something. There's a velvet altar set up in front of the big bay windows in the front of the house; she can picture Twyla carefully arranging its crystals.

Maybe it's all the artifacts everywhere, or maybe it's just the way the house feels so authentically Twyla, but Alexis instinctively knows that this place has good vibes. "I love it here." 

Twyla smiles. "Thanks, Alexis. Come on, let me show you to your room."

  


* * *

  


Despite Twyla's best efforts and all of her repeated visits to the apartment, the demon stays put and so does Alexis, taking up a semi-permanent residency in Twyla's house.

Alexis does her best to focus on work, turning Twyla's dining room table into a makeshift office, but she hates feeling like she isn't giving it her all. She likes listening to Twyla hum as she goes through her morning rituals, though, sometimes even singing quietly under her breath. She especially likes the way Twyla leaves a mug of coffee for her, sweetened just how she likes it, before she heads out the door. 

Twyla spends most of the two weeks going to Alexis' apartment after work, accompanied by a few different local witches she knows: Jocelyn, Rachel, and Ronnie. Alexis joined her for the first couple of times, watching from the sidelines while they worked, but the cold never let up and she hated feeling useless. It turns out to be a good thing she packed so much stuff; Twyla's continued hospitality is a balm on her anxieties. 

"You know, it might be easier to find stuff if you actually hang things up," Twyla says during one sticky, late-August night, watching from the doorway. Alexis looks up, caught red-handed where she's still sat on the floor, a pile of clothes strewn around her, and Twyla laughs. "Just a suggestion."

"I have a system," Alexis says defensively, sweeping one hand vaguely around the room. 

Twyla takes the gesture as a beckoning and moves inside, picking up a few pieces that Alexis had tossed haphazardly onto the armchair in a corner, then freezes in place. She's so perfectly still, almost like Alexis had hit pause on a remote – Twyla's arm is still in mid-air, holding up a gold sequined dress. "This is yours?"

Alexis furrows her brow, bemused. "Yeah, of course. Who else's would it be? And why are you looking at it like that?"

Twyla looks over at her, biting her lip, then sets the dress down. "It's nothing." 

"Doesn't seem like nothing," Alexis says in a teasing sing-song. She waits until Twyla's seated in the armchair before she taps on her ankle, then grins as Twyla looks down at her. "Tell me what's up with my dress!"

Twyla hesitates, glancing over at the dress. Her expressive face, typically so open around Alexis, is shuttered and wary. "It's silly," she says finally.

"I'm sure it isn't!" Alexis scoots a little closer, still on the carpeting, and puts on her best pleading, puppy-dog eyes. They worked on Queen Elizabeth, when she was caught sneaking out of Buckingham Palace, after all. "I promise, I won't make fun."

"Okay." Twyla steeples her hands together in her lap, looking anxiously back at Alexis. "It's just... I have this dream journal, I guess. Ever since I was little, I see these flashes of the future. I don't get any context, just glimpses here and there, so that's why I try to write them down. And this dress... I saw it two years ago."

"No way!" Alexis rises to her knees, picking up the prophesied dress in question and holding it up to her body. She strikes a pose for Twyla, delighted. "That's so cool. What do you think it means, you seeing this then?"

"I guess it means we were supposed to be here together," Twyla says. She's still speaking very carefully, measuring each word like she does for her herbal blends. "I've never seen a dress like this before, but I'd know it anywhere."

"Well, I'm glad we are! And that the fates, like, foretold it. I just wish that it wasn't the demon who brought us together." 

There's a lot more unpacking and rearranging to do, but Alexis is much too charmed by this direct application of destiny to bother. She makes short work of stuffing everything back in the suitcase, ignoring Twyla's protests about finishing what she'd started, then takes a seat at the foot of her temporary bed. 

"Sit with me," Alexis says, patting the empty space next to her, and Twyla obeys. "Tell me all about your visions, and how you got started in the exorcism business."

Twyla wrinkles her nose, but she's smiling nonetheless. "I prefer to call it 'cleansing.'"

"And I _love_ that for you, Twy, but it _is_ a bit confusing." Alexis pokes Twyla's foot with her own, then grins when Twyla fails to suppress a ticklish laugh. "Just my professional marketing opinion." 

"Thank you, Alexis." Twyla scoots backward, up on the bed and out of Alexis' tickling range, but Alexis just follows suit, leaning against the headboard. "And it was Mutt, really," Twyla adds. "He'd started the business first, by himself, and he ran into a really persistent ghost problem at one of the places he'd bought. He knew what I could do, I drove over here and helped, and he suggested we go into business together."

"That's really cool!" Alexis stretches her legs out in front of her, twisting to better face Twyla. "Love that journey for you two."

"Thanks." Twyla turns, too, and brings one hand up into her hair as she reclines next to her. "it was kind of something I did on a whim, moving here, but it worked out." 

"You didn't have any visions about it?" 

Twyla shakes her head. "I don't have visions about _everything._ " She pauses, green eyes holding Alexis' gaze, then says, "What about you? What made you decide to, what was it you said when we first met in June? 'Connect with your Canadian roots?"

"You remember that?" Alexis gives a pleased little smile, happy to have her words remembered, but she's stalling at the same time. She and Twyla have become actual friends, something she had privately hoped for ever since they met, but there are some things Alexis is still holding close to the chest. Twyla's looking at her so intently, though, so she says, "I had a bad breakup," and tacks on a half-tilt of a wry smile. "I guess I just needed a change of pace, you know?"

Twyla nods, understanding written all over her features. "I get it. I'm sorry you went through that."

"Me, too." The air around them is different now, quieter and more contemplative. Alexis is tempted to leave things like that, to change the subject and suggest they do something fun with the rest of their evening – face masks, maybe, or asking Twyla to make them milkshakes – but it's been a long time since anyone has bothered to look at Alexis the way Twyla's watching her now. 

"We had some..." Alexis breathes out sharply, struggling to find the right words, unsure what to say. She's kept things locked down for so long, she doesn't even know how to find the key to the safe that holds her secrets. "I didn't tell him certain things – not, like, in a sketchy cheating way, or anything, just – there are things I should have said, a long time ago, and he didn't... I mean, I can't blame him? But I couldn't – and then he didn't – and then it all fell apart."

"Alexis." Twyla reaches out, placing her hand on Alexis' and squeezing. "It's okay. We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to." 

Alexis tries to scoff, to play it off and push it aside, but she feels a flicker of something too big to ignore. Her hand pulses underneath Twyla's, energy vibrating at her fingertips, and she draws her hand back to look at it. "Twy," she says, twisting her fingers together. There's pressure in the air, right on her palm, and she contracts, then expands her hand. There's a connection between them, somehow, she's _sure_ of it, and she wordlessly reaches out with her other hand to find Twyla's. 

She can hear her mother's voice in her head – _Alexis' magic simply isn't great enough to nourish_ – but she watches, fascinated for the first time without repulsion, as the energy sparks to life. A little purple-red storm flickers in her hand, as big as a baseball, and she laughs, clear and disbelieving. She's never tried to use her long-dormant magic in this way, has never _wanted_ to try to use it or had it come so easily to her, but she has a feeling that's about to change.

"I should mention," she says, both of them watching the little cloud she's created, the colors swirling together, Twyla still holding tightly onto her other hand. "The thing I didn't tell my ex about is that I have magical blood."

[ ](https://postimg.cc/75BrYtRy)


	3. Twyla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to give extra-special thanks to nontoxic for helping me with the details of the tarot card scene in this chapter. This would not have become what it is without you!

Twyla can't look away from the small, persistent display in Alexis' hand. The magic is just like her, too: its energy is almost too bright, and it radiates patterns of light she's sure she'll see later when her eyes are closed. Everyone's magic manifests in different, unique ways, and she can't help but notice how _Alexis_ her magical signature is. 

"How long?" she asks, once she trusts her voice to work, chancing a glance up at Alexis' face. "I mean, how long have you been hiding this?" 

She's guessing, of course, but Twyla feels confident that she's right. She's known Alexis since the summer started, but most magicians wear their abilities on their sleeve – and thanks to the demon, they've certainly had plenty of opportunities for Alexis to try to use her magic. And if her break up story is to be taken at face value, she'd had a relationship collapse due to the suppression.

Alexis bites her lip, shaking a bit; Twyla's been around enough magicians to understand that the strain must be getting to her, especially if she doesn't often use her abilities. The cloud flickers, the shades of wind darkening in Alexis' palm, before it fades entirely away. 

Twyla watches, fascinated, as Alexis catches her breath from the exertion. She's gone a little pale, her eyes extra-prominent, and her hold on Twyla tightens. "My whole life," Alexis says finally, almost wonderingly; Twyla had almost forgotten she'd asked her something. Alexis looks over at her, defensiveness evident in the way her jaw clenches, her mouth drawn tight. "It's never... I've never been able to feel it that strongly until now."

"Mediums can amplify magic." Twyla absentmindedly strokes her thumb over the back of Alexis' hand, as though to illustrate her words, then realizes and pulls her hand into her own lap. She offers Alexis an apologetic smile. "It's something about the connection to the beyond. It supports the energies you can tap into. Like the right crystal or talisman, but even more so." 

"I didn't know that." Alexis turns her hand over, studying it as though she's never seen it before. "I guess there's not a lot I know about magic."

"It's okay to not know everything about it." Twyla's never seen Alexis like this, guarded and vulnerable, and her empathy tugs at her heartstrings. Somehow, over the course of their summer together and without her entirely realizing it, Alexis has managed to fully endear herself to Twyla. 

She leans down, hoping to catch Alexis' gaze again. "Is this something that you want to explore? I could ask some of my friends to tutor you?"

"No, I – I don't really have the ability." Alexis looks up at Twyla, worrying at her bottom lip. "It was just a fluke, because you... how did you put it? You amplified it." She holds her hands out again, bringing them together and then pulling them apart, but nothing happens. Alexis' laugh gets caught in her throat; the aborted sound is almost painful to Twyla's ears. "See? I can't do it without you. It's always been like this, just a brief little flicker and then – nothing." 

"We can work on it," Twyla says immediately. She hates seeing the shadows falling over Alexis' face. "Your magic just has to be exercised and strengthened, like any muscle or ability. Maybe it's brand new right now, but that's okay. I can help, and you can get to know this part of you. I'm sure it isn't too late."

"Maybe," Alexis says. She gives a little wiggle of her head, looking up at the ceiling briefly. When their eyes meet again, her accompanying smile is almost believable. "I guess we'll see."

  


* * *

  


It's been a long time since Twyla's lived with someone, but over the last two weeks since Alexis had moved in, she's instinctively adapted her rhythms to her guest. She knows when to set out breakfast in anticipation of Alexis coming downstairs from her room, sleepy-eyed in her pyjamas, and she stays quiet, trading brief smiles between the two of them, until Alexis has had at least a couple of sips of coffee and is ready to break the silence.

They weren't supposed to become friends. Alexis was intended to just be a client, an old acquaintance to reconnect with for business. A blast from the past, so to speak; an opportunity for Twyla to forgive herself for some of her teenaged insecurities. But she hadn't bargained for Alexis to sweep into her office the way she had, for Alexis to look at her like she hung the moon and stars. 

Twyla has written Alexis' name under multiple entries in her dream journal, each corresponding to a vision that she now realizes was fortelling their presence together, here: the stained glass from Alexis' apartment, her gold dress, a turquoise necklace that Alexis drapes over her collarbones, matching the shade of her eyes. There's a book Alexis takes out one night and pages through, some 'boring marketing book' she's trying to use to refine her strategies, and the author's name had factored into Twyla's dreams the previous evening. She hears a song Alexis sings in the shower one evening, echoing the soundtrack of a vision she'd had soon after she'd won the lottery.

She's never had so many visions pointing to the same person. All she can surmise this morning, over muffins and coffee and Alexis next to her, doodling on the newspaper and casting sideways smiles in Twyla's direction, is that somehow, the fates intend for Alexis Rose to be a big part of her life.

  


* * *

  


"My mom's calling me," Alexis says suddenly one night while they're watching Downton Abbey on the ground floor, mirror images of each other on Twyla's couch. She stares at her phone with obvious reproach, worry creasing her forehead. "Why is _she_ calling me?"

Twyla nudges Alexis with an elbow, turning towards her with a wry glance. "I guess you'll never know if you don't answer, right?"

"I'm sure it's nothing." Alexis hasn't put the phone down, though, and after a brief lull, it starts ringing again. "What if it's my dad? What if something's wrong?" She pauses, the two of them listening to a couple more notes of Alexis' ringtone, before she finally hits the button and Moira Rose's presence suddenly fills not only the screen, but the room around them.

Twyla has vague memories of Alexis' mother from the family's visits to Schitt's Creek, but they never spent all that much time together. She meets Alexis' eyes behind the phone, raising her eyebrows and mouthing: _Want me to leave?_

 _No._ Alexis reaches out, her free hand landing on Twyla's forearm and keeping her in place. She gives her a brief, pained smile, then directs it at the phone. "Hi, Mom," she says, drawing her legs towards her and propping her phone up on her knee. "What's – is everything okay? Are you okay? Is is it Dad?"

Moira laughs grandly through the phone. "Alexis, my darling, don't be obtuse. Your father and I are both perfectly salubrious. But David told me all about the little _beastie_ in your abode." 

Alexis tightens her hand on Twyla's arm; her smile has dulled, but it still remains fixed on her face. "Of course David told you. But it's, like... It's not a big deal, Mom. I'm taking care of it."

"Are you?" Twyla can't fully see the phone from her place next to Alexis, but she can only imagine the expression on Moira's face as she speaks. "Demons can be a touch deceptive, dear. You mustn't let them seduce you!"

" _Ew_ , Mom." Alexis wrinkles her nose. "I don't think it's – it was more like, a _murderous_ demon than a sexual one."

"It did say you were pretty," Twyla whispers, off-screen. She meets Alexis' eyes conspiratorially, trying to brighten her spirits, and earns a swat to her knee as Alexis swallows a laugh. 

"Even still, Alexis," Moira continues. On the screen, she appears to be reclining on something furry. "David did let me know that you were feeling particularly troubled by the invader. Is that true?"

"David can eat nails." Alexis' voice is still nonchalant, but Twyla can tell that her edges are fraying. "And I'm _fine_ , Mom. It's so _not_ a big deal. We're going to figure it out."

Moira tsks. "One needs redoubtable magic to banish a demon, Alexis, the rarest of sorts. And _I_ , one of the most eminent, influential witches, would _love_ to help you –"

"You would? Like –" Alexis blinks at her screen. "You'd come to Toronto?"

"Oh, don't be silly! My schedule, darling, it simply won't allow it." The sound of Moira's laughter fills the room again; through it, Twyla vaguely hears someone else – Johnny Rose, most likely – say, "Oh, is that Alexis?" 

"Hi, Dad," Alexis says, weary. She slides her hand down Twyla's arm, fingertips grazing over her wrist; Twyla looks down to watch, unsure if Alexis realizes what she's doing. "I guess you heard about the demon, too?"

"What demon?" Johnny asks, but his voice sounds much more distant now. "I'm sorry, honey, we actually have to go." 

"Of course." Alexis sighs through her smile. "So Mom, if you're like.... not going to come help, which I didn't actually _think_ you were going to, just for the record? Um, why _are_ you calling?"

"I just wanted to say hello, and now I have, so I must adjourn. Can't a mother bestow greetings upon her own bébé?"

"Bye, Mom." Alexis hangs up the phone before Moira can say anything else, then tosses it to the other end of the couch. Her cheeks are flushed, and the set of her jaw is determined. Twyla waits quietly, watching her sort through her thoughts, before Alexis looks over at her again. "I'm sorry, my parents are..." 

She's fumbling for words, so Twyla tries to help: "They're your parents," she says simply. She hopes she's not overstepping, but she can't watch Alexis doubt herself. "Not everyone likes theirs, or has theirs still around, or gets along with them. And that's okay, you know? They still made you _you_ , no matter if they're good or bad or whatever you may think of them, and you're – you're amazing, Alexis, regardless of what they're like." 

They're quiet for a moment, studying each other. Alexis' breathing is shallow, and her hand is still on Twyla's. Twyla wants to reach out, to do anything to make Alexis laugh again, but she can only watch between them, transfixed, as Alexis twines their fingers together. "Thanks, Twy," Alexis finally says. She blinks a couple of times, forces a smile, then adds, "You're pretty amazing, too."

  


* * *

  


Twyla carefully peels away the 'Caution: Paranormal Activity' tape, then closes the door behind her and Alexis. It's another calm August Saturday outside, but Alexis' apartment is still a near-functional freezer box. She's made some headway with Jocelyn and Stevie, and the demon's presence is now confined to the second floor, but progress has plateaued. 

"It doesn't feel like anything's changed." Alexis is wearing one of Twyla's winter parkas, and she tugs it tighter around herself as they ascend up to the first floor. "We _are_ going to be able to get this out of here, right?" 

"I'm trying." It's not a 'yes,' though, and she knows Alexis knows it. Twyla wraps a scarf around her neck, burrowing her face into it.

Alexis places her hands in the pockets of her jacket, frowning. “I know, Twy. I just –" She makes an exasperated noise, shaking her head. "I wish I could do something else besides watch you and the others try to deal with _my_ problem."

"It shouldn't have ever been your problem in the first place," Twyla reminds her. She hasn't been able to forgive herself yet. "And I should have realized it wasn't safe. But every problem has to have a solution, and I'm going to find it for this one. If the ghosts don't have any ideas, next on my list is to call several of my other medium friends and see if, together, we can conduct a powerful-enough seance to bind and banish it." 

Twyla knows her voice is bordering on too-bright as she goes through her next stage of planning, but what else is she to do with her guilt than to channel it into finding a fix? "It came here, so we just have to figure out how to make it leave."

"Okay," Alexis says doubtfully. Twyla can't blame her; she knows she's grasping at straws. "I guess I just... I mean, I know that people say 'everyone has their own demons,' right?" She gives a bitter sort of laugh, shrugging one shoulder. "I didn't know it'd be so literal for me. Of course mine is like, so big and persistent that the best medium in Ontario can't figure out how to get rid of it." 

"I – I wouldn't say I'm the _best_ medium," Twyla says quickly. "Or anywhere near the best." If she was, she'd know how to solve this for Alexis. "I'm just _trying_ my best, I guess." She pauses, watching Alexis as she shifts her weight from foot to foot; Twyla imagines she can almost see Alexis' doubts weighing her down, dulling her typical, larger-than-life presence. "That's all we can hope for."

They've had some conversations here and there about magic – Alexis even initiated a couple of them – but they've never gotten further than a couple of sentences in before Alexis withdraws into herself and changes the subject or leaves the room altogether. Twyla doesn't want to push, but she also can't imagine herself without her own powers. What would it be like to have never accepted every part of herself, to have never nurtured her innate connection to the beyond?

"Alexis," she finds herself saying aloud, surprising both of them. "Why don't you... do you want to try something?"

"On the demon?" Alexis' face is pained, twisted with emotions that Twyla can't fully divine. "You had full-blown, practicing witches in here, and they barely made any progress. What makes you think that I can do something to affect it?"

Very cautiously, drawing towards Alexis like she's a horse about to bolt, Twyla closes a little of the distance between them. "We don't have to jump right into banishment or anything." She pauses, eyes on Alexis' face, then takes another step. "Just try to shape _something_ , or to change something." 

Alexis looks down at Twyla's proffered hand, biting her lip, then takes it in her own. Her grip is tight, her hand warm; Twyla almost forgets what they were talking about. "All right," she says. She takes her other hand out of her jacket pocket, flexing it in mid-air, and gives a self-conscious laugh. "I don't really know what I'm doing. Maybe you do?"

"Um," Twyla says eloquently, adding her laugh to Alexis'. It breaks the tension, warming them both up despite the chill in the air. "I can't say I really know for sure how it works, but... I guess I can tell you what works for me, when I try to connect?"

Alexis tilts her head a little, squarely meeting Twyla's gaze, and quirks a smile. Twyla suddenly finds it a little hard to breathe. "Yeah," she says, her voice low. "Why don't you do that?"

"Sure." Twyla wets her lips. "I guess I start by closing my eyes and taking a deep breath." She watches Alexis' face keenly as she follows instructions, taking in the gold of her eyeshadow and the curve of Alexis' mouth; she's never seen her so still as she is right now. When she speaks again, her voice is a little dry. "I try to empty my mind. I imagine that I'm standing on the edge of an ocean, and that on the other side there's a faraway friend that I'm trying to talk to. If I listen quietly enough, hard enough, I can hear them whispering in my ear."

Alexis nods, near-imperceptibly. "Okay," she whispers. "I – what should I do now, Twy?"

Twyla sifts through her memories, trying to recall how witches and warlocks talk about their ability, before she remembers something Jocelyn said during her last visit to help out a younger warlock she was tutoring. "Hold out your other palm," she recites. "And then... try thinking of a shape. Whatever shape you want. Draw it in your mind, and imagine every single bit of it as though it's right in front of you, close enough to touch. Tell yourself that it's real, that it's here."

"Okay." There's silence between them, almost as though the demon and the spirits around them are listening, too, and then suddenly there's a _crack_ in the air. 

"Keep your eyes closed," Twyla suggests quickly, before Alexis can break her own focus. Now, her second time she's amplifying Alexis' magic, she can focus enough to feel every point of connection between their hands. It feels like she's holding on to live energy; if she pulls her hand away, she's sure she'll be shocked. "Just keep picturing whatever it is you have in front of you, okay?"

The faintest curve of a circle appears over Alexis' palm, hovering in midair, like someone's taken a pencil made out of lightning and is etching out a sphere that begins to fill in with a swirling mix of white and blue. The colors settle after a moment, creating a pattern of shifting cloud and sky. 

"Wow," Twyla says under her breath, captivated. She's seen plenty of magic before, but she's never seen someone's magical signature present as air. She looks back up just in time to see Alexis pull back on a radiant, ear-to-ear grin. "You're doing it!"

"I'm doing it," Alexis echoes, her laugh as clear and bright as the energy in her hand. Her hold on Twyla tightens as she concentrates to maintain the manifestation of her magic. "I can't believe – what does it look like?" 

Twyla instinctively takes another step closer, allowing their interlocked hands to fall loosely between them. It feels like second nature, all of this between them, and she wonders if this is their destiny: for Twyla to support her friend as she rediscovers her magic. If this is it, she thinks she can be happy with that. 

"It looks like you," she says finally, and Alexis opens her eyes. They're quiet for a moment, the sphere crackling merrily between the two of them, but Alexis' hand remains in hers even after the magic disappears. "Like your energy, I mean."

Alexis does a little shimmy of her shoulders, a self-satisfied smile on her face. Demonic presence around them or not, Twyla can't focus on anything else but her joy for her friend. "It must have been pretty, then," she jokes, squeezing Twyla's hand. 

"Very," Twyla agrees. Their eyes meet, and she smiles. "Very pretty."

  


* * *

  


Twyla calls Stevie later that day to arrange a magical tutorship with Alexis' permission, then passes the phone over to her so they can talk details. Alexis seems almost giddy with excitement: she paces the living room, the phone tucked under her ear, and she aims big smiles in Twyla's direction whenever their eyes meet. 

"Stevie's going to come down tomorrow," Alexis says once she's hung up and found Twyla in the kitchen. She'd cajoled Alexis into helping her knead and shape some buns before they'd gone over to the apartment, and they're now in the oven. "She's going to bring me a couple of things from David that she thinks will help." 

"Great!" Twyla leans forward, briefly resting her forearms on her kitchen island, as Alexis draws nearer. "Maybe she can stay for dinner." 

"You were going to make the pasta thing tomorrow night, right?" Alexis reaches out for one of the ties of Twyla's apron, twisting it around her index finger; Twyla's breath catches as Alexis gently tugs her closer. "The one I like?"

"You like all my pasta things," Twyla reminds her with faux-solemnity, tilting her head up to meet Alexis' eyes. She's learned that Alexis is a physical person, showing affection and appreciation through casual touches and little moments here and there, so she tries to not break the spell of their normal give-and-take by focusing on wishful thinking. "You'll have to be more specific."

"I don't really know, like, ingredients?" Alexis' brow creases with concentration, though, and Twyla can almost see her grasping for names of flavors. It helps that she's got a front-row seat to Alexis' very expressive face. "I just know what I like."

Twyla nods, pursing her lips as she buys herself time, pretending that she's considering the complexities of pasta instead of trying to decode Alexis. They're friends – _good_ friends now, somehow – and temporary roommates, on top of having a previous working relationship. So why does the air between them feel as charged with possibility as it had earlier, in Alexis' haunted apartment?

She smiles, trying to break the tension that she's sure only she's experiencing. Alexis' eyes are still on hers. "What do you like?"

Alexis licks her lips as seconds stretch between them into a moment that seems to hang, waiting on her next actions. Twyla's apron ties are still wrapped tightly in her fist; they're close enough, just inches apart, to fall into each other if they wanted to. "Anything that _you_ make for me, Twy." 

And then suddenly she's drawing back, letting go and putting more distance between them with an easy, crooked grin. "We could do a pasta thing tonight _and_ tomorrow, maybe?" 

"Yeah," Twyla says weakly, watching as Alexis withdraws into the living room. "Okay."

  


* * *

  


"Hey, Twy," Alexis says one night the next week, closing the book in her lap. "I have a question."

Twyla glances up; they're sitting on opposite sides of the couch, their legs outstretched towards each other. She stills her new pendulum, a polished purple amethyst on a silver chain, in her grasp. "Sure, Lex. What's up?"

"How does it work for you?" Alexis leans forward a little, straightening up her slouch, and sets her book on the floor. "I mean, the whole... mediumship thing. Like do you just hear and see things all over, everywhere?"

Twyla can't help but smile. It's not the first time she's been asked about this, but she likes when Alexis takes an interest in the mystical. Alexis has never given off the sense that she looks down upon it, but her interest has seemed to deepen since she started working with Stevie. She likes seeing Alexis come into more of her own. 

"Mainly, I have to be listening for it," she explains. "Remember what I told you, about how I visualize myself listening for someone? I have to empty my mind, I guess, before I can hear communications from the beyond." Alexis' eyes are wide as she listens, rapt with attention. "But it's kind of... there are some grey areas, I guess you could say. Sometimes things cross over from the other planes, as you know."

"Yes," Alexis agrees, a wry little smirk on her face. "I am _definitely_ familiar with that." 

"I thought you might be." Twyla leans her head against the back of the couch. "So there _are_ spirits everywhere in our world. In addition to the ones beyond the veil that I can communicate with. Most of the ones in our own plane didn't fully pass into the beyond due to their own sheer will. Some of them don't want to accept that they're dead, or they don't want to leave their loved ones. Those are the kinds of spirits that I remove from the properties. But honestly, new ghosts are always coming to our plane." She pauses, watching Alexis carefully, then adds, "There are even some here."

"What?" Alexis looks sharply over her shoulder, eyes narrowing as she tries to conjure up the otherworldly ability to see. Twyla swallows a laugh; she's looking in the wrong direction. "Like, how many here?"

"Two." Twyla glances between them; they're some of her most familiar friends. She's tried to help them move on, but before Alexis, she hadn't minded the company. "I didn't want to tell you before, since I wasn't sure if that would freak you out."

"But they're, like... you said that _everywhere_ has spirits." Alexis wrinkles her nose. "There were some in my apartment the other day, and you wanted to get advice from them. I thought you cleansed it?" 

"I had," Twyla agrees. "But the spirits in the beyond, I can always tap into their knowledge wherever I am. Those were the ones I was going to listen to the other day. But I have to be, you know. Even the ones that I can see around us, the ones stuck in this plane, I have to open my mind to their thoughts, first, before I can talk to them."

Alexis stretches, one of her legs resting against Twyla's; it's hard to resist the urge to reach out and place her hand on Alexis' ankle, but somehow she manages. "So what about, like... You get those visions of the future." Her eyes flash with mischief. "Like those visions of _me_ in your future, you know?"

"Yes," Twyla says. She hopes she seems as steady as she's trying to be. "But again, I don't really know what they mean, not until they come into my life in the present. And I still have the choice of how I handle it when they do. Like if I pay attention to the signs when they crop up, choose to take action from there, or if I ignore them." 

"Right." Alexis frowns a little, thinking, before she adds: "Besides the visions that just come to you, though, you do other stuff, too? You can, like... do tea leaves and numerology to predict the future, right?" 

_Oh,_ Twyla thinks to herself. Now she understands what Alexis has been driving towards, even if the path she took was meandering. "Yes to both, but tarot's my favorite. Do you want me to do a reading for you?"

"I mean, if you _wanted_ to..." Alexis is grinning now, wiggling her eyebrows and drawing a laugh out of Twyla. Emboldened by the sound, she leans forward, walking two fingers up Twyla's leg and onto her knee. "Just a suggestion, in case you were, like, bored with your evening." 

"I don't mind at all." Twyla reluctantly draws her legs back from Alexis' touch, then gets off of the couch so she can retrieve her favorite deck: a gold-embossed set with watercolor artwork. She sets it on the table in the corner, then passes her pendulum over it: _is this the deck we should work with tonight?_

Alexis moves over to her, her expression a little bit giddy, and places a hand on Twyla's elbow. "What're you doing?" she asks as the pendulum swings in the pattern that means _yes_.

Assured that she's made the right choice, Twyla gestures for them to sit at the table opposite from each other and sets the pendulum aside. "Just double checking that the energies are right," she says with a smile. In truth, she's been wanting to do this for Alexis for a long while, but Twyla's motives are a little self-serving – if she can learn more about Alexis and what they mean to each other from this reading, it'll be a nice bonus.

She unwraps her silk scarf from the cards, skimming her fingertips across the fabric on an exhale of her breath, then spreads it across the table. "Going back to what I told you earlier," she says, shuffling the cards, "about how I don't know what my visions mean until they come true? Tarot isn't really about a black and white list of what will happen. It's a look into what _could_ happen, and gives you a chance to think about the choices you want to make for the future."

Alexis nods, her gaze down on the cards and Twyla's hands. "Life would be easier if it was all laid out for me to follow," she says jokingly, "but I'm good with possibilities." 

"Good." Their eyes meet, and Twyla smiles at the eager look on Alexis' face. "Now I want you to think about a question. Anything that's on your mind, something that's open-ended that you need guidance on."

"Just one?" 

"You can do a few," Twyla says. "Just tell me how many after we cut the deck." The cards feel well-worn and comfortable in her hands, like old friends. She holds the deck out to Alexis so she can split it near the bottom, then gestures for Alexis to take the first card from the top and hand it to her. "How many questions?"

"Three," Alexis says after a moment. Twyla nods, thinking through the spreads she relies on the most, then places the first card at the top of the table, perpendicular to them both so they can both read _The Tower_ at the bottom.

"What were your questions?" Twyla asks. She tries to keep her face as easy and open as possible; the last thing she wants is for Alexis to be influenced by her reaction. It's a startling first card, however; and she knows they've both taken notice of it.

Alexis reaches out to trace the edge of the card, looking quizzically at it. "I asked about my magic," she says, "my mom, and what the future holds for me." Her voice is pitched a little quieter than normal; there's none of her typical bravado or performance. Just Alexis Rose, Twyla's friend, yearning for answers. "But this doesn't look... super great." 

"Those are excellent questions," Twyla says, trying to be encouraging. "And I know that The Tower kind of feels a little.... intense when you look at it." She's choosing her words carefully, watching Alexis' reaction to each one. "Like there's a lot going on."

"Yeah." Alexis worries at her bottom lip with her teeth, taking in the artwork. "Like there's just a lot of..." She flutters her hands around in a vague sort of gesture that Twyla has learned to instinctively understand. "That guy kind of looks like how I feel sometimes, with the demon and my move up here and everything with my magic. Ready to just be like, 'fuck it,' and jump out a window, since everything else is so crazy." 

"Right." Twyla spreads the cards out along the side of the table, across from the question at the top. She smiles at Alexis. "So that's what we're going to figure out: how to stop you from doing that. Go ahead and choose three?"

Alexis studies the cards, then does as she's been asked: The Ace of Wands, inverted; the Three of Wands; and the Ace of Swords. Twyla silently lays them out in a row below the question, watching Alexis as she reviews them. She loves hearing her subject's first impressions, then tailoring her own interpretations accordingly. 

"So this is kind of weird with it being upside down," Alexis says, looking at The Ace of Wands in the left column. "With the sky at the top, it feels like... everything's falling, even though the wand's like, just straight up and down. It shouldn't make that big a difference, but it does." 

"Inversion isn't necessarily a bad thing," Twyla assures her. 

"Okay, good." Alexis is almost leaning out of her chair, her focus is so intent on the three cards. She runs her thumb along the Three of Wands. "This one looks... it kind of feels promising, I guess? Much more stable than the Ace of Wands, and definitely more so than than The Tower."

"I think so, too." Twyla gives her an encouraging smile. "These three cards all tell the story of your questions about your magic. From left to right, we have your past, your present, and then your future."

Alexis scrunches her nose as she looks between the cards again, reassessing them with this added context. "So my magical past is upside down?" Her voice turns a little more sardonic; as vulnerable as this is between them, Twyla knows Alexis is falling into the defensive. She expected it to happen, even. She just hopes it won't impact the reading. "And then this..." She looks at the Three of Wands and the Ace of Swords. "Like I said, these both feel like they kind of have a better sort of vibe."

Twyla nods as she reaches out, brushing her hand against Alexis' as she straightens the Ace of Swords. "With the Ace of Wands inverted like that, it's kind of got a directionless feeling, with all the pieces of the wand pointing in different directions. It's kind of like how you're only just starting to explore your magical energy."

"How apropo that the wands are here for my magical question, even though we don't use wands." 

"I thought that, too." Twyla pauses, watching Alexis study the cards, then adds, "The Suit of Wands is about spirituality or inspiration, and that's kind of what you have going on with your magic. And the good news is that here, with the Three of Wands, it speaks to you going down the right path, It's a card of progress, I think. Look at the figure here, how they're standing forward on the edge of – of glory, maybe, like the song. This is you now, heading towards the Ace of Swords." 

Twyla traces the cloud that surrounds the hand and sword, then points to how the Ace of Wands has mirror imagery. "This is like your magical signature," she continues. "Both here in your past, _and_ in your future. This tells me that you'll gain control of your magic, and be all the happier for it."

"I like the sound of that." Alexis' voice is a little steadier, almost hopeful. "I think I could totally rock one of those swashbuckling, sword fighting pirate outfits, if I wanted to, or at least that little crown in the artwork."

"Oh, probably." Twyla smiles at her. "This card is kind of, like... For lack of better words, it's like you're finally able to cut through the bullshit of whatever's bothering you, and you can stand alone. You won't need anyone else to help you solve your problems."

Alexis laughs, loosening the tension in her shoulders. "Is that what the spirits told you? That I'm going to be cutting through some bullshit?" 

"Word for word," Twyla says. She gestures towards the cards again, and Alexis picks three more: the Six of Cups, inverted; Death, also inverted; and the Ten of Cups. "Don't panic," Twyla says quickly, but Alexis has already drawn in an audible intake of breath, her eyes big and focused on the middle card. 

"My mom's going to _die_?"

"No," Twyla says, gently but emphatically. She has to admit that the Grim Reaper-esque figure on the card is dramatic. "It's not as bad as it seems." 

"But there's a lot of... what did you say? Inversions?" Alexis looks so worried, Twyla wants to reach out and do something, anything, to make it better. They've talked about her magic, but the subject of Moira Rose has always been off-limits. "These two don't look _so_ bad," she says, gesturing between the two Cups cards. "But _Death_..."

"Death isn't always bad," Twyla points out. "I mean, the loss of a loved one is horrible. But you can also think of it like the death of something in your life that no longer serves you, something that you can use to propel you to the start of something new." She trails off briefly, watching how Alexis takes this – a furrowed brow, an anxious tuck of her hair behind her ear – before she goes on to the other cards in the row. "The whole Suit of Cups is very tied to our emotions, how we connect with people. How we love. So to see these two here, in the context of your relationship with your mother, it's not too surprising." 

Twyla takes a deep breath. She suspects this is going to be the most difficult part of the reading, and she can almost see Alexis steeling herself for the rest of what she has to say. "The Six of Cups," she continues, "is a card that's very closely tied to childhood, to the past."

"It looks like siblings," Alexis says softly, studying the card in question. "Like me and David when we were younger. They're all alone, like, working a farm or something. No parents around. And it's upside down, too, like they're falling out of the sky." Alexis gives a brief wince of a smile, taking in the card's artwork, then looks up at the ceiling and shakes her head. "Makes sense for it to be here." 

Twyla's heart feels like it's about to burst in her chest. "Lex," she tries, but nothing she can think of to say seems like it'll be enough. "You know I'm here for you, right? That you aren't alone?"

Alexis swallows hard, shaking her head again, then looks back at Twyla. Her eyes are watery but clear, and she manages a smile that doesn't fully work. Twyla fleetingly wonders how old Alexis was when she learned to mask her emotions. "I know, Twy." She sniffles, then tries another smile. "And vice versa. Tell me about this pretty one with the family and the rainbow, though?"

"The Ten of Cups," Twyla says. She's pleased to see this in Alexis' reading; if she could manifest anything to happen in her future, the happy scene depicted in this card, with the parents and the children from the Six of Cups, is exactly what she'd choose. "This one is about happiness, about family and closeness."

"We've never... I don't think we've ever looked like this. At least, not when we were just pretending for a photoshoot or something." Alexis traces the rainbow at the very top, her expression thoughtful. "This is what's around the corner?"

"It could happen," Twyla reminds her. "It's just one way that the future could come true. But this is what I mean by tarot giving you the tools to tackle your problems and find the answers to your questions. You know where you've been and where you are now." She moves her hand over the table, gesturing to all of the cards at once even though they haven't yet revealed the final row. "And all of these pieces will work together to help you get to wherever you're going." 

"I should be so lucky." Alexis is quiet for a moment, looking down at the cards again, before she puts on a brighter smile. "Let's see what my future has in store for me," she says, and the subject's closed just like that. 

Alexis chooses the final three cards, laying them down to complete the spread – The Fool, inverted; The Lovers; and the Two of Cups – and giggles at the card in the middle. "Okay, so they're like, totally naked." 

"Yes," Twyla says, suppressing a laugh of her own. Everyone always seems to have the same reaction to The Lovers, and she can't really blame them. But then she takes another look at the card and its place in the spread – in the very middle, Alexis' present – and she glances up. Across from her, Alexis seems to be wondering the exact same thing.

"I don't really, like, have a lover right now," Alexis says. Her gaze is still down at the spread, but then she looks up through her eyelashes at her, and Twyla's pretty sure her heart skips a beat. "But maybe that will change soon."

Twyla stutters out a laugh. The energy has admittedly been shifting between them, ebbing and flowing with a sort of possibility that Twyla isn't sure she's imagining. She doesn't want to read too deeply into the cards, or force Alexis' hand; if The Tower means anything at all here, it's representative of how much turmoil Alexis has been going through. She has bigger issues to fight through than her love life. 

"Maybe." It's the closest Twyla will let herself get to flirting back – if Alexis is even flirting in the first place. She suspects that Alexis' entire existence on this earth is one giant flirtation. "I guess you never know." 

Alexis smiles at her, slow and steady, then glances over to the left, at The Fool. "Another inverted card here, but he doesn't seem to be, like... all that foolish, besides the fact that he's upside down. He looks like he's going on a little trip somewhere fun." 

"He definitely is." Twyla has heard all about Alexis' adventures across the world; it's a very fitting card for her. "Inverted, he's kind of... it's sort of more reactionary this way, I guess. Everything in your past," she says, gesturing to the three cards on the left, "kind of built up to this."

"So that was then," Alexis says. Her gaze shifts back to The Lovers, and she winds a strand of hair around her finger. "So what does this one mean for me, if I'm not dating anyone right now?"

"Like Death, you don't have to take it at face value." Twyla trails off there, though; she needs to restrategize. She isn't totally lying to Alexis – The Lovers doesn't necessarily have to point to a romance – but its pairing with the Two of Cups is throwing her for a loop. It's a card she's always seen in her own spreads, serving various roles throughout her life, but she knows exactly what it's trying to tell her now.

"The Lovers is all about new connections," Twyla finally says. She's flustered, and the lascivious look Alexis is training on her isn't helping. "Romantic or not. It could be alluding to new people you're meeting here, or maybe your clients?"

"My new clients are what's being represented to me by a card called 'The Lovers,'" Alexis repeats. She's smirking now; underneath the table, Twyla feels Alexis' foot skim up her calf. 

Twyla tries to hold her gaze, but she's suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. "Yes. That's what I said."

"And this one here?" Alexis runs her fingertip along the artwork of the Two of Cups, then licks her lips. "Is this about me toasting to my clients hitting their quarterly OKRs in my future?"

"I – not _exactly_." Twyla's seen Alexis in much skimpier, heart-stopping outfits, but she's pretty sure that the way she looks now – a loose camisole and pink shorts, her hair up in a messy bun – is going to be forever imprinted on her mind. "Their cups are full, which is..." Alexis scoots her chair closer toward the table, then nudges a knee between Twyla's. "Okay." 

"It's okay that their cups are full?" Alexis asks. She tilts her head, walking her fingers over to Twyla's outstretched hand on the tabletop, then draws a heart in the center of her palm. "Is that what you're really seeing in our future?"

"Alexis," Twyla says warningly, despite the fact that she's suddenly having a hard time remembering why she's trying not to give in. She's stubborn, though, even if she's not as stubborn as Alexis herself, so she manages the rest of her explanation – the true one, not the interpretation she was going to say instead – in bits and pieces. "They're fulfilled together, is what I mean. That's why the cups are full."

Alexis nods, an expression of deep, intense thought on her face. Twyla suspects that it's feigned; Alexis is too busy tracing her own name on Twyla's skin. "What else does it mean, Twy?"

Twyla's breathing has grown shallow, like she's drowning in water that she never wants to leave. If Alexis Rose is to be the death of her, she's more than okay with her fate. "They've found harmony together." 

"That's sweet." Alexis takes her hand then, steady and sure, and tugs. Twyla obeys, half-rising out of her chair, elbows on the table. "And this is just one potential way my future can come true?"

Twyla nods, transfixed; now that she's letting herself see the pieces come together, she isn't sure how else her visions, Alexis' cards, and their shared destiny could possibly make sense. And god, she wants it _so_ much. "Yeah," she says, testing out her voice. "It's – it's the potential that exists here." 

Alexis rises up, too, mirroring Twyla as they both lean over the cards. "Let's make destiny happen," she whispers. "It's in the stars, you and me." 

Twyla has no choice but to acquiesce. They come together in mid-air, Twyla's hand twisting into Alexis' hair and holding on tightly as they kiss. "Lex," she says under her breath, against her lips, almost to remember that this is happening. Alexis makes a greedy sound in the back of her throat as she shifts, side-stepping around the table to pull Twyla against her. Twyla's more than happy to let Alexis move her; the difference between them is just enough for Alexis to lift her up, leaning her on the table they were sitting at a moment ago, and Twyla's pretty sure she'll burn up right there, that she'll spontaneously combust from the fire between them.

When they come apart, Alexis is practically on top of her, hands on either side of Twyla's hips on the edge of the tabletop, her body slotted between Twyla's knees. "Your bed or mine?" she asks, then kisses Twyla again.

Alexis' mouth is like cherries, hot and sweet; Twyla's more than happy to keep tasting it. "Mine," she says, laughing at how eagerly Alexis pulls away to tug them both upstairs. She almost stumbles on the final step when she's too distracted by the glimpses of skin she gets when she pushes her hands up Alexis' shirt, but Alexis grips her hips tight enough to steady her, holding onto Twyla long enough to back her into her bedroom.

Twyla has thought about this before, even if she's never fully admitted it to herself until now. She's wondered what Alexis would look like in her bed, her hair spilling across Twyla's pillowcases like it is now, how they'd fit together. She straddles Alexis' hips, dropping her gaze to watch Alexis's hands find purchase on her thighs, skimming up and under her the hem of shorts. It's everything she'd thought it would be and more. 

She dips down, capturing Alexis' lips with her own, and gasps as Alexis' hands find their way onto her breasts. Twyla's in too deep now, but is there anything wrong with that? She wants so badly to keep going, to discover what Alexis looks like under all the fashion and circumstance of her everyday being. She wants to know what it's like to wake up next to her in the morning, how they'd hold each other as they're falling asleep. She wants the future they're promised, the one they can now make come true now that they've acknowledged this between them.

"Lex," she says again; the name escapes her like a cry for help and a reverent invocation all at the same time. "Alexis."

Alexis leans up, pressing her lips against Twyla's stomach, nudging her shirt up with her nose. "I think you're wearing too many clothes, Twy. We should fix that." 

Twyla's breath hitches; she's so close to losing all control. "Alexis," she says again, more insistent. "I – maybe we should slow down." 

"We should?" Alexis takes a deep breath, pulling back. Her eyes are worried as she looks up at Twyla, her hands still on her thighs. "Babe, what's wrong? Is everything – do you not want to do this?" 

"I do." Twyla takes a deep breath, kicking herself, then places her hands on Alexis' and gently slides them down. She has more self-control than she's previously given herself credit for, considering what she's about to postpone. "I really do, Alexis, believe me. But I want more than this. I want your nights and days, all of them, and I'm – I'm scared that if we do this now, _tonight_ , that we're going to force our destiny and miss out." 

"But I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you, and I want everything you said, too." Twyla can feel Alexis backing down, though, as the pace between them steadies and slows, and she gives Alexis a grateful smile. "I want you, Twy. I want all of those things you just said, and then some. I honestly thought you knew, but then you kept ignoring all my hints."

Twyla reluctantly settles down at Alexis' side, hesitating before she wraps an arm around her waist. They can do this now, she hopes, and she breathes out a sigh of relief as Alexis turns and nestles her face in Twyla's neck. "Honestly, I didn't know if you knew what you were doing. Or how it was affecting me."

"Oh, I knew." Alexis' breath is warm against Twyla's skin, her eyelashes fluttering. "You're so cute when you're squirmy." 

"Thanks." Twyla leans her head against Alexis', smiling. "Just what a girl wants to hear in bed."

Alexis wiggles even closer, brushing her lips against Twyla's shoulder with a contented little sigh. "You said you wanted all of me, so you'll have to learn how to deal with this." 

Twyla lifts her hand up, shifting down so that they're eye to eye, then tilts Alexis' face up so she can steal a kiss. She can't believe what's come true between them, that this is theirs, but she has no complaints about their reality. "I think I can manage that."


	4. Alexis

When Alexis first wakes up the next morning, bleary-eyed and groggy, she's of half a mind to fall back asleep before she remembers that she's in a different bed than her own and the giddy realization startles her awake.

It's so early, much earlier than she ever would want to get up, but she's in Twyla Sands' bed. How can she resist getting up? It's a momentous morning! The last twelve hours of her life had really happened: the tarot reading, the kissing, the movie Twyla had then put on to cool things down between them, and all the rest of the kissing that they'd done instead of watching the movie, before they'd fallen asleep. How is she supposed to lie back down and close her eyes when she's replaying it all in her head?

Somehow, despite Alexis' quiet exuberance, Twyla's still asleep. She sleeps on her back, apparently, her limbs stretched out and tangled in her sheets; Alexis found out in the middle of the night that Twyla's a little bit of a bed hog, and she loves that for her. During the day, Twyla's the most selfless person she knows, and Alexis is more than happy to help her take up as much room as she needs at night.

She watches the rise and fall of Twyla's breathing, how peaceful her face looks. Alexis hates to stay still, but she's sure she could spend hours watching Twyla do anything. Twyla could read her the phone book from cover to cover and Alexis would be more than happy to hang on her every word. 

Alexis glances at her phone, wincing at the hour – seriously, it's _way_ too early for her to get up – but she does it anyway. Twyla stirs a little as the bed shifts underneath her, but Alexis is a pro at the art of an early-morning bed escape. As thrilling as it once had been to flee the Playboy Mansion, though, Alexis is even more excited to come back home to Twyla after her run.

  


* * *

  


She's definifely okay with Twyla placing some boundaries around their sex life. Really, truly! But being okay with it doesn't mean she's suddenly not hot and bothered over the entire situation. How could she not be when she's been simmering in this thing between them for what feels like forever, with all of this yearning and second-guessing and wanting preoccupying her heart and mind? 

Alexis has no idea when things shifted between them, when Twyla went from her best friend to much more, but she almost prefers that to being able to pinpoint the exact moment that she wanted to make Twyla hers. Better for her to have never even had time to second-guess, for her to just suddenly and unequivocally be all-in. 

Alexis will wait, though. She'll wait as long as Twyla wants them to. She'd do anything for this woman who's so earnestly given Alexis more than she can ever repay. 

She does plan on making up at least some of her debts, starting today. Alexis checks her map, sketching out a route that will give her enough distance at the start of it for her to end the route at Twyla's favorite coffee shop, close enough for a meandering cooldown walk with plenty of baked goods and iced coffee.

When she hits the pavement outside, she breaks into a sprint right at the start, reveling in the physicality of her muscles working and her heart pounding. For the first time in a long while, just like Twyla had said the night before, Alexis can feel the potential that exists for her future. What's more, she can see exactly how she can take charge of her life from here on out.

  


* * *

  


Alexis is sweaty and gross by the time she returns home, but she heads straight up to Twyla's room anyway. "Hey, Twy," she murmurs as Twyla blinks sleepily, turning to face the sound of the opening door. She has a plate of mini-croissants in one hand – chocolate and almond, their favorites – and Twyla's coffee in the other. Alexis' own coffee is tucked under her arm, ready for her once she sets everything down. 

Twyla pushes herself up, leaning against her headboard and running a hand through her hair. She looks as shocked to see Alexis up as Alexis herself felt about it earlier, but what's a new, exciting romance without surprises? 

"How long have you been up?" Twyla takes the plate, setting it down on her bed and gesturing for Alexis to join her. She watches Alexis as she delicately takes a seat, careful to not get Twyla's sheets too sweaty, then presses her lips together in some kind of amusement that Alexis doesn't fully understand until she adds: "And you know that we have muffins downstairs, right?"

"What? Of _course_ I knew!" Alexis reaches for one of the croissants. "But, like, when has having more baked goods ever been a bad thing?"

"Never," Twyla agrees. Alexis watches the way Twyla's lips wrap around the straw of her iced coffee, how her cheeks hollow slightly as she takes a sip, the way she blushes once she realizes Alexis is paying attention. 

Alexis gives a little shimmy of her shoulders; she's too overjoyed by how things seem to be falling into place for her body to contain it all. "Don't mind me, babe. Just admiring the view."

"I don't, really," Twyla says, even if there's a shyness that's settling onto her features. "I just... we didn't really talk about things last night, due to all of the kissing."

"The really, really _great_ kissing," Alexis corrects.

"Yes." Twyla smiles, that bashful look still on her face. "The really great kissing."

Alexis takes a sip of her own coffee, imagining the caffeine replacing the endorphins from her run. "So what do you want to talk about?" 

Twyla shrugs one shoulder, her free hand smoothing out a few wrinkles in the bedsheets, before she looks back up at Alexis. "It doesn't freak you out, all of the stuff about.... I mean, my visions are one thing, since they're sort of open to interpretation, but the reading last night was pretty clear."

"And you're thinking that all of that is going to freak me out," Alexis surmises, looking up at Twyla. She can understand the perception, even if it hurts her feelings a little. "Even though I was like, totally coming on to you while you were telling me about what the cards said." She tries to keep her voice soft and even, to not let the hurt come to the forefront where it can be recognized. "I'm not freaked out by it at all, Twy, I swear."

"Okay. It's just – I mean, _I'm_ a little freaked out." Twyla's words come out in a rush, almost like she's trying to apologize without saying the words. She sets the food aside on her nightstand, then hovers her hand in mid-air before she places it on Alexis' thigh. "And I'm not saying that being freaked out is a bad thing, you know? Things have changed. Even if we both have been wanting last night to happen for a while, we're going to start relating to each other differently. Expectations will be different. And all of that's okay."

Alexis bites her lip. Everything that Twyla's saying _sounds_ like good stuff, but she doesn't like how tense things feel between them. 

She bends down, setting both of their coffees on the floor, then scoots closer to Twyla and takes both of her hands in her own. "Twy," she says, waiting for her to look back up at her before she continues. "Of _course_ things are going to be different now. And I'm not freaked out. How can I be when you've always been so sweet and kind to me? You've always gone out of your way to help me and support me and look after me, and I just – I want to be all that and more for you, too." 

Alexis tugs on Twyla's hands, just like she had before their first kiss, and a little thrill runs up her spine at how easily Twyla obligingly moves onto her lap. "It _is_ a lot, all of the stuff about the future and what it can really mean for us making this thing last between us, but knowing all of that just makes me want to see how we end up making it last." She kisses Twyla's nose, running her hands up and down the curves of her waist, as Twyla wraps her arms around her neck. "Let's not overthink it, okay?" 

"Okay," Twyla finally says. "Okay." Alexis doesn't love the cautious look in her eyes, but Twyla isn't getting up and leaving. She'll take that as a win, even if she knows she'll have to prove herself a little bit more, a little while longer. Everyone has their own demons, though. If Twyla can handle hers, she can handle Twyla's.

She must be doing something right, though, even if she feels like this conversation is like walking a tightrope. Twyla leans in for a kiss, slow and lingering, then lets out a little sigh against Alexis' lips. "You're too good a kisser."

"And that's a bad thing?" If it were anyone else, Alexis would follow it up with a reminder that her talents extend far beyond kissing, but she's learning Twyla's boundaries. Within reason, anyway. "I don't want you to ever feel anything but good, Twy. Especially when it comes to us." 

"I know." Twyla runs her fingers through the end of Alexis' ponytail, then adds: "And it's okay if we just wait a little longer before we have sex, right? Just to make sure we both have everything figured out together?"

"Of course." Alexis shivers a little as Twyla's other hand starts tracing lines up and down the back of her neck, and Twyla smiles. "Anything for you, babe, I promise."

"Thank you, Alexis." Twyla kisses her again, deepening it after a moment, and Alexis is more than happy to follow her lead. She has the vague feeling that she's being rewarded with another kiss every time she earns a little more of Twyla's good graces, but she pushes that thought aside for later, when she's alone. 

When they finally pull apart, Alexis leans in a little, fruitlessly chasing Twyla's lips again. Twyla's still talking, though: "And I was also thinking that maybe we should sleep in our own beds unless we're having an official date or a sleepover." Instead of the worry that had been etched on her face just a couple of minutes ago, though, Twyla has the gall to look _amused_.

"Twy," Alexis says. She can deal with the ramifications of destiny, she could wait for an eternity to make Twyla come undone if she truly has to, but sleeping apart when they don't _have_ to? "Twy. Are you sure?"

"Yes." Twyla shifts on Alexis' lap, resting her forehead against Alexis'. She's trying not to laugh, but she's not entirely successful. "I'm sure. Is that okay?"

"But, like...." Alexis is trying so hard not to pout, but she's pretty sure she's doing it anyway. Apparently there are only so many battles she can simultaneously fight at once. "We can still make out in your bed before I go back to mine, right?"

"Of course." Twyla kisses her again, arching her back a little and pressing herself closer against her, and Alexis' mind flickers, then shuts off entirely. Alexis nods into the kiss, whispering a _yes_ against Twyla's lips, and just like that, breakfast is forgotten.

  


* * *

  


September rolls around, and Twyla's still out with some clients when Alexis makes it back home. She's on top of the world after the session she had with Stevie and Jocelyn at her apartment. For the first time, she can feel her magic thrumming in her fingertips as she goes about the rest of her evening.

Before the community she's found here, Alexis' magic had always lay dormant within her, unacknowledged and untrained. She'd never been taught to nurture it; her mother had been too preoccupied with _Sunrise Bay_ and too far away in Los Angeles to tutor her. Alexis hadn't wanted to learn from Adelina. She'd just wanted her mom. 

It had been different for David, somehow. Even though he didn't have any magical blood in him, like their father, he'd always been interested in magical tools and artifacts. Their mother had cultivated that interest in him, had paid attention to his hobbies and given him actual endorsement. Conversely, crystals and runes had bored Alexis, and her magic hadn't reacted to their presence. 

She'd once broken one of her brother's most precious stones by shoving it off the table, frustrated and seeking attention, and when David found it he had instantly tattled to Adelina. Alexis doesn't remember what she'd said, or if she'd been punished, but she remembers the sinking feeling in her stomach, the coldness in her brother's eyes. He'd shut her out then, a rift opening between them that seemed almost insurmountable, until they'd learned how to repair it during their summers spent in Schitt's Creek.

If Alexis has learned anything since her move to Toronto, though, it's this: she can't let her past color her present. She doesn't want to forget what she's done or where she's been, but the more she unflinchingly stares at her magic and doesn't withdraw from it, the more she feels like herself. 

Back at her apartment, the demon's now silent. It's a huge win. The demon's still roaming the second floor, but the three of them had successfully managed to join their magical pools to create something bigger than themselves, taking strength from each other and creating an amplification channel that she could still feel, hours later.

Twyla's with Mutt, closing on a house, but Alexis is itching to do something else with her night. She rustles through the kitchen, thinking vaguely about a grilled cheese sandwich, but then she remembers she has no idea how to make one. A bag of chips will do in a pinch, and she meanders the ground floor with a handful of them in a bowl.

The chips are great, but her magic's still under her skin. She wonders if this is how it will always be, now that she and her magic are one and the same. She figures that she owes it to baby Alexis to explore her magic as much and as often as she can.

She snaps her fingers on a whim, her eyes brightening as a cloud of magic appears in mid-air before her. It's so easy now, always within reach of her, whenever she wants it. She looks up, awestruck, as she shapes her magic into something she can wield. 

It's cold tonight, now that summer's starting to fade, but Twyla hasn't turned the heat on yet. It's still 'too early', supposedly, even though Alexis is personally fine with any sort of comfort within reach. She's pretty sure she can do something about that. It's a bit domestic, maybe a little boring, but she knows Twyla always runs cold. 

When Twyla finally comes home, Alexis has already gotten ready for bed and is sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels, but she makes short work of greeting Twyla at the door with a kiss hello.

"Hey, babe!" Alexis nuzzles her nose into Twyla's hair, rubbing her hands up and down the goosebumps on her arms once Twyla's worked her coat off. "Cold outside?"

"Not too bad." Twyla pulls Alexis tightly against her, then looks up at her face, eyebrows raised. "Did you turn the heat on?"

"No," Alexis says. She's trying so hard not to smile, but a little one sneaks out anyway. "I did something else."

Twyla steps back, searching Alexis' face, then grins once it dawns on her. "Really? Without me?"

"Babe," Alexis says, reaching out to boop Twyla on the nose. Twyla reaches up, catching Alexis' hand in hers, and kisses her fingertips. "I can use my magic _without_ you now, thank you very much." 

"That demon better watch out." Twyla leads them away from the door, then shoots Alexis a grin over her shoulder as she starts to walk upstairs. "I'm so proud of you, Lex." 

"Thank you." Alexis grabs Twyla's waist, intent on sneaking a kiss once they alight at the top of the stairs. She's so, _so_ happy. "I'm proud of me, too."

  


* * *

  


Alexis is more than happy to wait for them to finally sleep together. Really. She's overjoyed to wait.

It's just that certain days, when she wakes up next to Twyla after 'accidentally' falling asleep in her bed, the wait's a little difficult. On some mornings, when Twyla ends up on top of her, tangling their limbs together as Alexis coaxes Twyla's mouth open with her own, it's hard to focus on anything else besides how badly she needs to touch her, how much she needs to feel what it will be like to bring Twyla over the edge.

"I have to get ready soon," Twyla murmurs, panting quick, hot breaths against Alexis' lips, laughing as Alexis' hands tighten on the fabric of her sleep shirt and pull her back in for another kiss.

" _Please._ " Alexis can hear how desperate she sounds, but what else is she to do? She isn't above begging in the right kind of circumstance, can play the submissive if that's what she's in the mood for, but she isn't used to the amount of need she feels. She isn't going to push boundaries, but if they only have a few more minutes together, she doesn't want to waste a single one. "Please stay a little longer, Twy."

Twyla shifts above her, her cheeks flushed and eyes lidded with what Alexis hopes is the same kind of want that she's trying to stave off, too, tilting her head to one side and sweeping her hair over to one shoulder. Alexis is so deprived for more that she moans at the gesture, half-convinced that the freckles dusting the expanse of Twyla's neck and collarbones are the most erotic things she's ever seen.

"Okay," Twyla says, breathless, closing her eyes as Alexis kisses her again. "Okay."

  


* * *

  


All things considered, when one thinks critically about all the evidence at hand, it's Twyla's fault that Alexis can't concentrate at work. Twyla had ended up staying in bed for an extra fifteen minutes, a true bounty of additional time, and Alexis hasn't been able to stop thinking about her ever since. 

She drinks two cups of the coffee Twyla made for them, attempts to focus at least a little bit during the morning's slew of meetings, and hits send on Twyla's name in her speed-dial as soon as it's time for her lunch break and she's gone upstairs to Twyla's bedroom. 

"Twy," Alexis says in lieu of a greeting, once the call's been picked up. "Are you busy?"

There's a shuffling on the other end of the phone at first, the sound of footsteps, then: "No, I – is everything okay?"

" _No_ , Twy." Alexis knows she's being dramatic and selfish, but that's nothing that's ever stopped her before. Her other hand's already getting herself out of her jeans. "I'm in your room. I'm going _crazy_."

Twyla's silent for a moment, breathing into the phone. "Lex," she says, tentative. God, Alexis wants to hear Twyla say her name in her ear, over and over. She wants everything so _much_. "What are you doing?"

Alexis lets out a ragged sound as her fingers find her clit, her eyes closing. "It's technically not sex if I'm by myself."

"That doesn't – that doesn't make sense, babe. Not if I'm on the phone with you." But despite the logic, circumstances, and surprise, Twyla sounds as turned on as Alexis feels. She's happy to consider that a win.

"How long can you talk?" 

There's another pause; Alexis imagines Twyla retreating to one of the other office rooms, looking so cute in the outfit she'd put on that morning. When Twyla speaks again, her voice is pitched lower: "About ten minutes?"

Alexis grins, tucking the phone under her ear. If they're on a time crunch, she'll need both hands. "I can make ten minutes work."

  


* * *

  


Alexis is sure Twyla had a good time during their lunch break rendezvous. She seemed pretty into it, anyway, even if she hadn't personally participated in it like Alexis had. But they didn't text all that much during the rest of the day, thanks to 'work site visits' and 'exorcisms,' and Alexis spent all afternoon worrying that she'd accidentally bumped past Twyla's boundaries. 

She's a little emboldened by the smile Twyla sends her way once she hears the tell-tale creak of the front door opening, but she stays put at her dining table-turned-workstation, waiting for Twyla to come over to her instead of her usual rush towards the door. It's not like Alexis is playing hard-to-get, necessarily, but she wants more validation and assurance than she's getting.

"I missed you today," Twyla says after a moment, a bemused smile on her face. She traverses the living room, dipping her head down to kiss Alexis' cheek. 

"Missed you too, babe." Alexis looks up at Twyla, assessing: she doesn't _seem_ totally out-of-sorts or anything, so maybe she's overthinking all of this? But she's also not, like, rushing into Alexis' arms and demanding she ravish her right there and now. Maybe she didn't spend all afternoon thinking about Alexis like Alexis had been thinking of her. It's a bit rude, honestly, all things considered, but that's fine. Alexis can keep her cool if she needs to.

"I was thinking we could do the chicken piccata for dinner tonight," Twyla says. She reaches out, tracing her fingertips along Alexis' wrist and earning a shiver from her. "What do you think?"

Alexis lets her gaze drop, imagining she can see the patterns that Twyla's leaving along her skin, then looks up at Twyla through her eyelashes and wets her lips. She isn't expecting the move to get very far, considering how long it took for them to get together _despite_ Alexis' arsenal of flirtatious tricks, but she thinks she sees Twyla give a sharp intake of breath.

"Sure, Twy." Alexis leans toward her, shifting a little as she tries to subtly aim her cleavage in Twyla's direction. "That sounds great. You always know what I like." 

Twyla presses her lips together, suppressing a smile as she arches one eyebrow. They're both quiet for a moment, sizing each other up, and a rush of anticipation pools in Alexis' stomach as she realizes: Twyla wants to play hard-to-get, too. 

"I do." Twyla's eyes flicker down to Alexis' neckline, then back up. The smile she then trains on her is so bright, Alexis feels like the sun is shining on her. She wants nothing more than to bask in its warmth, and maybe take her clothes off and sunbathe in front of it while Twyla kisses her neck. "Come help me?" 

Alexis grins; she's the boss, so she doesn't think twice about closing her computer and taking Twyla's hand. She briefly entertains the thought of taking her upstairs, but that would go against the game they're playing. Anyway, she's too enthralled by the smiles they're exchanging, the way Twyla steps in close to tie an apron around Alexis' waist, brushing a light kiss against her lips before she moves back to tie her own. 

"Look at you, so domestic," Twyla teases, smoothing out Alexis' apron. "I'll make a sous chef of you, yet."

"Mm, love that for me." Alexis turns, leaning against the kitchen island and tilting her head as she pretends to consider the suggestion. "You know how much I enjoy being under you." 

"Oh, I know." Twyla puts on a mock-pensive face, settling her hands on either side of Alexis' waist and leaning in. "I think you said something about that earlier today. When we were on the phone?"

"Yeah?" Alexis had thought she'd taken some of the edge off earlier, but she's strung tight all over again at the very mention of their call. All she can see and think and feel is Twyla in front of her; it's taking every ounce of her willpower to hold herself in check. But as much as she wants Twyla, it doesn't compare to how much she needs to know that her want is reciprocated. 

"I don't remember what I said," she adds. She arches her back, pressing her hips against Twyla's as she pretends to think. "Why don't you remind me?"

The blush that spreads across Twyla's cheekbones reminds Alexis of the sunrise, of possibility. She hesitates, the words seeming to catch in her throat, but she holds Alexis' gaze unflinchingly. "You said you were thinking about me holding you down with one hand while I fuck you with the other."

Alexis nods slowly, hooking her fingertips in the belt loops of Twyla's jeans and tugging her in closer. "That sounds about right," she murmurs. "I think about that a lot. What about you, Twy? Do you ever think about that?"

"Yes." Twyla slides her hands across the surface of the island, leaning in and closing the distance between them. She's flush against Alexis now, gazing up at her with big green eyes. "And I think about what you'd look like in the shower. How pretty you'd be with soap bubbles all over you, cleaning up after I make you come. I think about that all the time."

" _Twy_." Alexis is practically vibrating with the urge to kiss her, to run her tongue over all of Twyla's freckles and trace a path down between her legs until Twyla comes hard against her lips. She reaches up, wrapping her arms around Twyla's shoulders and running one of her hands through her hair. "Baby, what're we waiting for?"

Twyla kisses her then, hot and insistent, leaning up on her tiptoes to reach Alexis' mouth. "Nothing," she says into the kiss, and Alexis laughs. She's overheating already, burning up from the knowledge that Twyla wants this, wants _her _, that this is happening. "I don't want to wait anymore, Lex."__

__"No more waiting," Alexis promises. She breaks the kiss, her heart skipping a beat at the pleading sound Twyla makes as she pulls away, and sinks to her knees. She makes quick work of undoing the ties of Twyla's apron, then pushes her shirt up so she can run her tongue along her belly button as she starts on the button of her jeans. "No more."_ _

____

  


* * *

  


Twyla suggests they go to the waterfront on a crisp autumn afternoon, just a few days before Alexis' birthday. She's always loved the end of September for its anticipation of birthday bubbles and baubles, but as she tucks herself into the nook of Twyla's arm and buries her face in Twyla's scarf, she thinks she can learn to love autumn for so many more reasons.

"I think I can get used to this," Twyla jokes. They're reclining on the amphitheatre of the music garden, cozy on a plaid picnic blanket. The skies are clear above them, the trees are a kaleidoscope of colors, and the breeze from the shoreline encourages them to cuddle into each other more, oblivious to the world continuing around them.

"Me, too." Alexis shifts so that she's lying on her side, one arm outstretched above Twyla's head. "In case you didn't know, Twy, I kind of like you. A lot."

"Oh, good." Twyla reaches for Alexis' hand, holding it with both of her own. She smiles at Alexis like she's trusting her with a secret. "Because I _really_ like you." 

Now that Alexis' magic is entirely a part of her, she doesn't feel the same kind of clandestine thrill she used to get whenever Twyla would touch her and her magic would spike. It's better now: a quiet, insistent presence that reminds her of what could happen. Together, they can be so much more than when they're on their own. 

"I was kind of thinking," Alexis says after a moment's pause; a flock of birds had flown overhead, interrupting them with their cawing. "Maybe I should update my mom on what's going on." She shrugs one shoulder, an old habit of forced casualness whenever she talks about her parents. "With me, I mean."

"About us?" Twyla asks. Her face is open, waiting. It's one of Alexis' many favorite things about her, how Twyla always listens without judgment. "Or about your magic?"

"Both, I guess." Alexis tries to imagine it: calling her mother up out of the blue, somehow reaching her at a time she can actually speak. She wonders what they would talk about, how they'd transition from small talk to something deeper. The last time they'd been alone together, her mother had asked her what her favorite season was, and it was an experience Alexis is in no rush to repeat. She supposes the part of her that always wanted her mom to pay attention to her has never entirely grown up. 

"David's her favorite," she adds after a moment, her voice soft. "They've always had things in common."

Twyla squeezes her hand, running her thumb along the back of Alexis' palm. "Even though he isn't magical?"

"Yeah, even still." Alexis and Twyla talk all the time – wrapped up in bed together, leaning against each other on the couch, sitting across from each other at dinner – but there are certain subjects she hasn't broached just yet. Maybe it's the autumn air she's breathing in, the anonymity of where they are, or the way that Twyla's looking at her, but for the first time she feels like she can say these things aloud. 

Alexis takes a deep breath, gathering herself, then says: "My parents actually forgot that I have magic. That's how they never spilled the beans around Ted. They just –" She forces a laugh out of her throat. "They completely forgot, so of course they never said anything. There's always been something bigger to focus on, you know? Their careers, red carpet stuff, David and his apothecaries."

"And you never..." Twyla trails off, watching Alexis carefully, then asks, "Why didn't your mom teach you about your magic when it came in?"

"I don't know." She's lying; she knows exactly why. Alexis forces herself to keep her eyes on Twyla's, grounding herself on her green eyes like a lifeline. "My mom's magic... when she gets going, it's like dust clouds and tornadoes. You can feel it to the bone. When I was younger, it scared me. I didn't want to be around it."

Twyla's quiet, biting her lip as she considers this. "So she probably.... whenever she tried to, you couldn't learn?" Alexis nods, and Twyla shifts closer so they're nose-to-nose, moving an arm around her waist. "It isn't your fault," she adds. "Lex... you know that, right?"

"I know." Alexis tries a smile, her vision watery. "I know. But it isn't all bad. She taught me how to do my hair with magic when I was a teenager." She lifts a hand, sparking her magic; she doesn't summon enough for her signature to appear in the air, but her fingers are still pulsing with magic as she waves her hand over her head.

Twyla nearly jerks upright, surprised; from the look on her face, Alexis can tell that her roots have lifted from brown to blonde. "You don't get that done in a salon?"

"No. It's the only thing she ever taught me how to do, so I've always done it like that. I guess I kind of..." Alexis rolls her eyes at herself, her expression wry. "It doesn't require all that much concentration, so I could manage it. And I wanted to look like her, you know?"

"You're beautiful either way," Twyla says solemnly, like she's pronouncing a decree that Alexis must obey. She lifts a hand up to run her fingers through Alexis' hair, then skims her thumb along her cheek. "Brown hair or blonde, or no hair." 

"Let's not do 'no hair.'" It breaks the sad spell Alexis has placed on herself, though, and she laughs as Twyla kisses her, blinking back a few more errant tears. Who would've thought that her heart could feel so light?

  


* * *

  


They fold up the blanket once the sun starts to set, then start to meander back east, hand-in-hand. Twyla's talking animatedly about a house she just purchased in The Annex, near Mutt's place; it had given her really good vibes as soon as she crossed the threshold, and she's hoping there aren't any sneaky poltergeists lurking in the corners.

"Those are the worst," she says, grinning over at Alexis. "Second to only your demon."

"I've actually, like, become kind of fond of it?" Alexis swings their hands a little as they walk. "Now that it can't talk, I mean. We've been through some shit, me and the demon."

"Oh, so we should just keep it in your guest room forever and ever?" 

"It _is_ a guest," Alexis points out. "So if it's going to be anywhere, that's where it should be."

"You make a good point." They sidestep to avoid a large group, walking closer along the water's edge, and Twyla tightens her hold on Alexis' hand. "When I was younger, I had a demon for a little bit."

Alexis stops in her tracks, fixing Twyla with a sharp look. She'd said it with such nonchalance, Alexis isn't sure if they're still joking around. "What do you mean?" 

"I meant what I said." Now it's Twyla's turn to shrug, embarrassment coloring her face. "My mom was kind of... she pushed her mediumship to the limit, and it opened up a breach in our house. My dad was able to deal with it, but it hung around for a little while before he could manage to."

Alexis knows they have a lot more to learn about each other, but she's almost stunned by how much she doesn't know about Twyla. She knows she grew up in Schitt's Creek, of course; there's the shared connection with Mutt, and during a recent visit, David had greeted Twyla with a big hug and a clear familiarity bred from their years of overlap before Twyla had moved to Toronto. Her brother moved back to Schitt's Creek after graduating from college, to be with Patrick, and it occurs to her now that David probably knows a lot more about the woman she's seeing than she does.

"So both of your parents are supernatural?" she asks carefully. Twyla's face is tight, her posture stiff, and Alexis bites her lip, wondering how many times they've skirted around the topic of Alexis' own baggage without ever exploring Twyla's. But it's not as though she's ever been an open book about her problems, so she has to remind herself that Twyla's probably the same way. She has to be happy with what Twyla's willing to give her, and hope for more as they continue to fall for each other. "A medium and a warlock?"

"Yes." Twyla's gaze is guarded, but she's still holding on tightly to Alexis' hand. She has to take that as a minor win. "But I didn't really... I was raised by my aunt." She pauses, rolling her lips together, then adds: "My dad went to jail when I was younger. There was a magical accident and someone got hurt. My mom eventually lost control of hers, too, and it didn't... mediumship can be a lot of stress on the mind, you know?"

All of Twyla's careful preparation, her measured approach to magic and mediumship, the pep talk she'd once given Alexis about being true to oneself no matter who her parents were: it all makes sense now. Alexis wants to wrap her arms around her and hold her tight; she wants to spellcraft a shimmering shield that will envelop Twyla and protect her from ever feeling as hurt as she looks right now. But there's also a little defiance in the set of Twyla's jaw, a steely determination that Alexis recognizes from when she's given herself pep talks in the mirror. 

She settles for moving closer, bending her knees so they're a little more at eye level, and smiles a little as Twyla tilts her head up to kiss her. Alexis tries to put into it everything she can't say aloud – _I'm sorry. You aren't your parents' mistakes. I think I'm starting to fall in love with you._ – and she's gratified by the way Twyla clings to her when the kiss breaks. 

"Still want to get dinner?" she asks. Twyla nods, squeezing her a little tighter before they start to walk again.

  


* * *

  


"Twy," Alexis says abruptly, just as they're getting home. "Twy?"

"What's wrong, babe?" Twyla folds up her scarf, hanging it up neatly, then looks over at Alexis and furrows her brow. Alexis isn't fully sure what her face is doing, but she can feel it doing _something_ as her mind puts together various pieces of information:

1) Mutt and Twyla have known each other for a long time. 

2) When Alexis was younger, visiting Schitt's Creek during her summers, she'd met Mutt before she started eleventh grade. 

3) Mutt had been dating someone when they met, and then had broken it off with that someone. 

4) He had mentioned once, while they'd been on their way to skinny dip in the creek, that the girl he'd been dating had gone through some family stuff when they were younger.

5) The 'family stuff' he'd been alluding to was the exact same thing that Twyla had just opened up to her about. 

"Alexis," Twyla says again, cutting through her reverie and taking hold of her by the shoulders. "You're freaking me out. What's going on?" 

Alexis opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She'd stolen Mutt from _Twyla_ when they'd been kids? Had she ever even _met_ Twyla? And then suddenly the rest of it falls into place.

"Oh my _god_." Alexis' voice is shaky; her eyes scan Twyla's gorgeous face as her memories link together. She takes a deep breath, holding her hands up in some kind of plea, maybe, or wordless apology. "Twy – I mean, we've _met_ before. When we were kids. Mutt told me his ex worked at the café, so I went there and – you were working there, too." Alexis pauses, her throat tight, then adds, "And I threw a muffin at you. Right?"

She's almost hoping for Twyla to shake her head, to say that it's someone else from Schitt's Creek who'd dated Mutt when they were in high school, but Twyla's face is grim. She isn't pulling away from Alexis, but the energy is shifting nonetheless. 

"Yeah," Twyla says finally. "All of that's true." 

"And you – how long did you know it was me when you met me?"

Twyla's eyebrows lift as she tries to decipher this. "You mean... back this summer? When you moved here?" Alexis nods, and Twyla bites her lip. "I remembered you from back then as soon as we met again."

Alexis isn't sure what she hates more: the way Twyla's carrying herself now, or the sickening certainty of knowing that it's because of her. "And you knew I'd forgotten."

"I knew," Twyla confirms. "But, I mean – we barely talked to each other back then. And you seemed to have a lot going on at the time."

"With Mutt," Alexis says. Someone has to bring him up, and she doesn't think she could handle Twyla being the one to do it. "I was too distracted to get to know you because I stole your boyfriend." 

Twyla blows a stream of air from her lips, a pained look on her face. "Lex, it's... it's water under the bridge at this point. It's really not a big deal. Mutt and I are friends, and you and I are..." 

Alexis cocks her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What are we, Twy?" It's beside the point, maybe, but they haven't actually discussed it yet and it's suddenly very important to Alexis that they know exactly what they are to each other. "Dating? Girlfriends?" Despite the tension and the distance that have settled between them, Alexis quirks her lips. "Lovers?"

Twyla sighs, shaking her hair off her shoulder as she studies Alexis intently. She must like whatever she sees, though; Twyla reaches for Alexis' hand, then lets go so she can move her arms around Alexis' neck. "We haven't really defined what we are to each other."

"No, not yet." Alexis pulls Twyla in tight, kissing the top of her hair. It's a little easier to breathe now, even if Twyla hasn't entirely forgiven her just yet. "But if you ask me, we're all of the above." 

"All of the above," Twyla repeats, considering it. She tilts her head up, brushing her cheek against Alexis', and Alexis splays her hands against Twyla's back as she tries in vain to bring them even closer together. "And then some." 

"That works for me, baby." Alexis closes her eyes, leaning her head against Twyla's; she already knew she was head over heels for her, but she hadn't realized just how much she didn't want to lose her until the spectre of the possibility entered the picture. "I'm sorry I was a stupid kid," she says after a moment, still holding onto Twyla as tightly as she can. "I shouldn't have treated you like that, and I shouldn't have gone after Mutt. I wasn't... I mean, not that there's any excuse? But I wasn't really making any good decisions back then. I'm sorry you got caught in the middle of that."

Twyla cups Alexis' face with her hand, her eyes softening. "Thank you," she says. "I really appreciate it. But, Lex... I forgave you a long time ago. Right around when I started falling for you." She offers Alexis a tentative smile. "I promise, we're okay." 

Alexis turns her head, kissing Twyla's palm. She'd be foolish to assume all of their fights will be so easily solved, and she still isn't entirely sure that she's worthy of absolution, but here they are together, even still. "We're okay," she echoes, willing herself to believe it.

  


* * *

  


Twyla's outside, tending to her plants or pulling weeds or something, when Alexis rushes out of the house and into the backyard. "Twy," she calls out, her phone in her hand. "Twy, you have to hear this!"

"What's going on?" Twyla dusts her gloves off, then lets them drop to the ground. "Is everything okay?"

Alexis wrinkles her nose, amused; truth be told, she has no idea how to explain what's currently happening. "My mom is doing an Instagram Live," she says, still unable to believe it. "And she's talking about me."

Twyla's next to her within seconds, their heads together as they focus on the screen in front of them. There are millions of viewers, apparently, watching as her mother continues on: "I am delighted to share that my bébé Alexis has indeed recently turned twenty nine again." Alexis giggles as Twyla shoots her a pointed look; Twyla knows exactly how old she is, considering that they're the same age, but her mom has always been weird about growing older. "What's more, she single-handedly removed a demon from her estate!" 

"She knows there was an entire coven there, right?" Twyla asks, grinning, and Alexis holds a finger to her lips.

"It turns out that Alexis does indeed have the barest modicum of magic within her blood after all," her mother says, shifting so she's holding the phone at a very unattractive angle. Alexis considers texting her about it, but she isn't sure it's worth the hassle of trying to explain the qualities of a good selfie arm. "She and I have had our differences, but I must say: Alexis, if you're out there, I am proud of you." 

Alexis stares at the screen, stunned. Had she just imagined that? She's never heard her mother say that about _her_ , just her blessed firstborn. "She's proud of me," she whispers, looking back over at Twyla. "My mother's proud of me." 

"Of course she is! How could she not be?" Twyla kisses her, the livestream forgotten by them both even as her mother's ramble goes on and on. They've got a lot to celebrate: Alexis' recent birthday, the banishment of the demon with her new coven's help, and now this? 

"I wouldn't have been able to do all of this without you, Twy," she says, meaning it with her whole heart. "You changed my life this summer." 

"No," Twyla says with a smile, shaking her head. "Lex, you did it all yourself. I just showed you one of the possibilities with a little help from the stars." 

"Well, give the stars and the Ten of Cups a big thank you from me, okay?" Alexis kisses Twyla, then gives a happy little sigh as she melts into her girlfriend's arms. Her phone's still on, abandoned on the ground; her mom is still rambling, although from what she can vaguely hear, she seems to think her livestream's off. "She'll figure that out later," Alexis says, shimmying her shoulders a little, and Twyla kisses her again.

  


* * *

  


"So this is it." Alexis sets all her suitcases down in her bedroom, looking around as she tries to refamiliarize herself with the place. She's nervous, somehow. The apartment is technically hers, but she never had a chance to make it her own. "Lucky this place is still so cute." 

"Very cute," Twyla agrees. She places her overnight bag next to Alexis' bed, then tucks an errant piece of Alexis' hair behind her ear once they're sitting down. Alexis pulls her legs in towards herself, wrapping her arms around them and leaning against her girlfriend; the last time she was here, a demon was threatening her. "You okay, Lex?"

Alexis shrugs one shoulder, nodding as she worries at her lip with her teeth. "It's just... It's been, like, three months since I was supposed to move in. And I got used to living with you. And now I have to be here, and you're going to be there. I'm going to miss you."

"We can still have sleepovers," Twyla reminds her gently, but there's a sad little smile on her face all the same. "And I'm within walking distance, remember?" She moves both arms around Alexis, squeezing. "But I'll miss you, too." 

They're quiet for a moment; Alexis lets the steady thrum of Twyla's heartbeat fill her ears, lulling her into calm. She's still listening for the telltale signs of a demon in the background, but as the space settles around them and all continues to be well, she relaxes. "It really seems like everything's okay," she says finally, looking up at Twyla. Even though she was present for the banishment, part of Alexis hadn't fully believed it had happened. "It's just you and me." 

"I think so." Twyla leans back, pulling Alexis with her, until they're both curled up together. Twyla's face finds her neck, her eyelashes fluttering a little against Alexis’ skin, and the scent of her lavender shampoo settles around Alexis and warms her heart. "We're all alone."

Alexis smiles; no ghosts, demons, or spirits can come between the two of them and the apartment Twyla had once seen in her dreams. If this is just one of the possibilities her destiny has in store for them, she'll choose it every time. 

She traces her name on Twyla's skin with her index finger, punctuating it with a heart, then closes her eyes and tightens her arm around her girlfriend. For the first time in months, she feels like she's truly come home.


End file.
